Winged Warrior

by Richard S. Tuttle

  “And the lives of my people,” nodded Lyra. “It is time to bring her into this conversation.”

  * * *

  The throne room in the Royal Tree was crowded with officers and military advisors. They crowded around a large table that had been brought in for Marak to spread his charts over.

  “They will be most vulnerable when they are crossing the sea,” King Avalar declared. “Anything we can do to disrupt that crossing will be well worthwhile.”

  “We have some surprises in store for them when they cross,” replied the Torak, “but once they have made the voyage that chance is gone forever.”

  “Not necessarily,” Avalar shook his head. “They cannot just cross the ocean and be done with it. Vand is not a fool. He knows that we will likely deplete the land of food and supplies. His ships will continually sail the seas to resupply his armies. It is important for us to reserve some ships to harass him.”

  Marak stared at the map of Omunga for a long time without speaking while the elves bantered among themselves, trying to figure out where Vand would choose to strike first. The Torak suddenly started nodding and smiling and the room fell silent as Avalar leaned over to look at the map.

  “What do you see that the rest of us do not?” asked the King of the Elves.

  “An answer to a riddle,” smiled Emperor Marak.

  “What is the riddle?” asked Tamar.

  “Two questions,” answered the Torak. “Why was Duran already attacked? And why would the evacuation of Zaramilden alter the invasion plans?”

  “You mentioned that Duran was attacked to see what your reactions would be,” replied Avalar. “Do you think there is more to it?”

  “I do,” nodded the Torak. “You brought the thought to mind a few minutes ago when you mentioned his need to resupply his forces. Duran is a seaport that has absolutely no access from any point of land. As a landing point for an invading army, it is worthless, but it is strategically located in the center of the landmass and will be fairly close to the fighting no matter where Vand strikes.”

  “He is going to preposition supplies there,” gasped Tamar. “Once the fighting begins, he will have no need to have his ships crossing the ocean.”

  “Exactly,” nodded Marak. “Zaramilden, however, is too close to Duran by sea be left unconquered. Any of our ships based in Zaramilden would be a threat to his resupply effort, but if we evacuate it, they no longer have to bother attacking it.”

  “Does that mean that he will also attack Raven’s Point?” asked Avalar. “It is Khadora’s only major seaport on the eastern coast.”

  “It is also twice as far from Duran as Zaramilden is,” replied Emperor Marak. “If we have an appreciable navy at Raven’s Point, he will be compelled to attack it, otherwise he does not have to hurry.”

  “He will want to destroy your navy before the war commences,” declared Tamar. “He is too vulnerable at sea. He will not risk losing a thousand men at a time when one of his ships goes down. His assured victory rests on getting a million men ashore.”

  “Half that number might be enough to destroy all of us,” frowned Emperor Marak. “We still don’t have a good handle on the magic that they use, or the number of mages that will be included in that million men.”

  “Well,” smiled King Avalar, “you will have the elves to help balance the fight. You will not find a finer archer in the world.”

  “I look forward to seeing your men in action,” smiled the Torak, “but I would prefer to keep the knowledge of your involvement secret for a while. Using the elves when Vand least expects it will have the greatest impact.”

  “I agree,” interjected Tamar. “After King Avalar’s escape from the Island of Darkness, Vand will be looking for proof of any elven involvement in this war. The best plan is to deny him that knowledge until it is too late for him to compensate for it.”

  “Coordinating will be the hardest part,” declared the Torak. “I am sure that Alahara and Alastasia can teach your mages how to use an air tunnel, but I am no longer sure how secure that is. I believe that Vand now has knowledge of air tunnels.”

  “If we are cautious in their use,” interjected Princess Alastasia, “I think it would be hard for Vand to know it. At any given time there must be hundreds of air tunnels in existence. Even if he knew how to listen in, he couldn’t intercept all of those messages. He would concentrate on messages that involved you or Lyra. Those are the ones most likely to give him the information that he needs.”

  “I will try to get information from Aakuta about their knowledge of air tunnels,” offered the Torak. “Teach the spell to the elven mages. Even if messages can be intercepted, we need the capability to communicate.”

  “Alastasia and I can become Mistake and MistyTrail again,” suggested Princess Alahara. “We know how to act human and not be taken for elves. We are known in Angragar at least, and we can go there for meetings to avoid using the air tunnels.”

  “There is some benefit to that suggestion,” Emperor Marak replied thoughtfully. “Rejji can get you quickly from Angragar to Khadoratung or StarCity. In fact, Lyra could probably use your help right now. She is short on people that she can trust.”

  “Is that necessary?” Queen Alycia asked anxiously. “They are needed here.”

  “Do not try to protect them,” King Avalar said to the queen softly, but firmly. “They are true Kierans and can take care of themselves. When the time comes for the elves to fight, I fully expect my daughters to be leading armies of elves. The danger in their lives is something that you must get used to.”

  Alahara’s and Alastasia’s eyes widened with surprise, but Queen Alycia bit her lower lip to forestall the tears that were beginning to well up in her eyes. She stared at the princesses for a moment and finally nodded before turning and retreating to her chambers.

  Chapter 23

  Unfriendly Skies

  Myka glided high in the sky over the Island of Darkness while Marak and MistyTrail gazed down at the enemy’s stronghold. The elf and the human were wrapped warmly in cloaks provided by King Avalar to protect them against the chill of high altitudes.

  “This gives a new appreciation of what Vand has accomplished,” remarked the Torak. “The harbors are overflowing with ships.”

  “And I did not properly imagine the size of the other cities on the island,” added MistyTrail. “They are actually much larger than Vand’s city. I wonder why.”

  “I would suspect that the mines and quarries are located towards the sound end of the island,” mused the Torak. “That is where Vand would require the most labor to prepare for the coming war. I wish Captain Mynor had given those cities names. It would help in our planning.”

  “They have names,” offered MistyTrail. “Avalar told them to me. He has an incredible amount of knowledge about the island for someone who never left the cells in the temple.”

  “Twenty years is a long time to listen to the banter of the jailers without learning something,” shrugged Marak. “What are the names of the cities?”

  “The three southern cities are Eldamar, Sudamar, and Teramar, going from east to west,” answered MistyTrail. “The northern city is named Vandamar.”

  “I will see that our charts are updated to reflect the names,” responded the Torak. “Without this flight over the island, I would have been tempted to concentrate on learning what is happening in Vandamar, but the real preparation for war would not be taking place there.”

  “See where the jungle ends along the beach?” MistyTrail pointed excitedly as Myka flew over the western coast of the island. “That is where we escaped from the island with Eltor and Caldal. You can see the reefs offshore where our boat sunk.”

  “We are going to dive shortly,” warned Myka. “The sun is setting, and I want to fly close to the water to avoid being seen in the glow of the sunset. It will be an abrupt dive to limit the amount of time that we are visible. Anyone seeing us will think twice about reporting a dragon diving into the sea. Hang on.” />
  Marak grabbed his knife and stuck it deep into the hole in the dragon’s scale. MistyTrail wrapped her arms tightly around the Torak, and they waited for the dive.

  Myka continued gliding high in the sky until they were well away from the Island of Darkness. Without a word of warning, she pulled her wings in close to her body and plummeted like a rock. The force of the wind threatened to blow Marak off the back of the dragon as he gripped the knife with both hands. The air stung as it whipped his face and arms, and his stomach felt as if it had been left behind high above him. His eyes were closed tightly, and the rushing wind created such a loud noise that he barely heard MistyTrail screaming behind him.

  While the dive only took seconds, it felt as if it lasted for hours. Without warning, Myka’s wings flared out, and Marak’s body slammed into the dragon’s back. He almost lost his grip on the knife. The Torak opened his eyes to see the crests of the waves only a few paces below him. He became acutely aware of the ring of pain around his waist and immediately thought of MistyTrail.

  “Are you alright?” he asked the elven princess.

  “I am now,” panted MistyTrail. “I hope I didn’t break your ribs. I thought I was going to be blown away.”

  “You are not alone in that feeling,” Marak replied.

  “You did well for your first dive,” quipped Myka. “I feel confident that they did not hear your screams back in Elvangar.”

  “We will have to go high again when we reach the coast of the Sakova,” Marak said. “I want to fly over Duran and the Wall of Mermidion.”

  “We can fly as high as you want after a while down here close to the water,” answered Myka. “Soon we will be out of sight of the watchers on the Island of Darkness.”

  “I don’t want to go too high,” replied Marak. “I want a good look at the empty city. Can we do that without being seen?”

  “If the city is empty,” snorted Myka, “how can we be seen?”

  “It is supposed to be empty,” explained Emperor Marak. “I am not sure that it is. That is why I want to look at it.”

  The dragon did not reply as they skimmed over the ocean waves. Sometime later, after Myka had gradually gained a much higher altitude, MistyTrail tapped Marak on the shoulder and pointed off to the left. Marak looked and could see a landmass on the horizon.

  “That is the Sakova,” declared Marak. “If I remember the maps correctly, Alamar is about the closest point of land to the Island of Darkness. We will stay off the coast quite a ways until we get to Duran.”

  “Then Duran is not really on the way to StarCity,” frowned MistyTrail. “I know the way there from Alamar and it does not hug the coast.”

  “It is out of the way,” agreed Marak. “We could probably reach StarCity just as quickly as Duran, but I have a hunch that I want to check out. Besides, we want to reach StarCity after dark. I am not prepared to let Vand know that a winged warrior is helping us.”

  “You think people have moved into Duran?” asked MistyTrail.

  “Not people so much,” Marak shook his head. “I think Vand may be using Duran to stockpile supplies. I want to know for sure.”

  After a while, they saw the peaks of the Wytung Mountains rising through the clouds gathering over the landmass. The mountain range ran from the center of the Sakova to the coast halfway between Alamar and Duran. It was just on the northern side of that mountain range that the Wall of Mermidion began. The impressive vertical cliffs dropped a thousand feet to the sea, effectively cutting off the coast from the rest of the landmass. In some areas, the beach spread out from the base of the cliffs quite a ways; in other places there was no beach at all; the cliffs actually protruded into the sea.

  Marak felt moisture whisk by him and looked up. Heavy clouds raced by directly overhead. A second later, Myka flew into the cloudbank. It felt like being in the midst of deep fog, except they were soaring through it at a frightening speed.

  “How can you see where you are going?” the Torak asked Myka.

  “The clouds only block my vision,” answered the dragon. “I can also sense things around me. How else could a dragon fly in the dark of night? We will be over Duran shortly. I will try to find a break in the clouds for you to see.”

  Without warning, Myka suddenly banked to the left. MistyTrail’s arms immediately wrapped around Marak’s waist, and the Torak’s hands subconsciously reached for the knife. The clouds grew wispier and appeared less solid as the dragon flew in a wide circle. Unexpectedly, they flew out of the clouds and Duran sat below them in full view. The Torak inhaled sharply when he saw the three huge ships sitting in the harbor. Small boats were ferrying goods ashore, and teams of seamen scurried throughout the city, carrying bundles and rolling barrels. It was just a glimpse before the clouds returned to block their view.

  “Do you want to see more?” asked Myka.

  “I have seen enough,” Marak replied sharply. “Head for StarCity.”

  “How could Myka know where StarCity is?” asked MistyTrail. “Its location is a secret.”

  “The stronghold of the Sakovans has been around for a thousand years,” chuckled the dragon as she straightened her wings and headed south. “Nothing lasts long as a secret from dragons. Do you think we sleep all of the time in our caves?”

  “Actually, I did,” nodded MistyTrail. “I never heard anyone talk about ever seeing a dragon before.”

  “And did anyone see us today that was not supposed to?” quipped the winged warrior. “Dragons are only seen when they want to be.”

  “Unless people wander into their cave when they are sleeping,” taunted MistyTrail.

  “Then they are eaten,” retorted Myka. “Either way no stories are spread.”

  The sky grew dark as the sun dropped below the horizon, and eventually the clouds passed away. Brilliant stars illuminated the dark sky as Myka soared high over the uninhabited Sakovan forests. As the mountain peaks rose up to reach the dragon, StarCity suddenly appeared below. Myka’s wings spread wide as she glided silently over the Sakovan stronghold, her head swiveling as she sought a safe landing place.

  “Either the roof of the palace or one of the fields at the edge of the city,” suggested MistyTrail. “Those places are normally vacant at night. I think a field would be safer.”

  “You learn quickly,” smiled Myka as she glided towards a field at the base of the mountains. “I will not be able to wait here for you, Torak. How shall we meet up?”

  “You may return home, Myka,” instructed the Torak. “I can get to Khadoratung quickly through the secret doors. Thank you for bringing us here.”

  “I will await your call,” replied the winged warrior as she set down gently in the field. “Be vigilant.”

  MistyTrail swiftly slid off the dragon. Marak pulled his knife free from the hole in Myka’s scale and slid down to stand beside the elven princess. Without further words, Myka leaped into the air, hugging the sides of the mountains as she rose into the darkness.

  “That is one special creature,” smiled MistyTrail. “You would never know it from listening to Mistake’s tales about her.”

  “She is special,” nodded Marak as he began walking towards the palace. “She is one of Kaltara’s winged warriors. Will we be stopped if found in the city?”

  “We are both known to the Sakovans,” MistyTrail shook her head. “They will greet us warmly, but word of our arrival will spread quickly.”

  “That does not bother me on this trip,” shrugged Marak. “It will tell our enemy nothing.”

  “Actually,” grinned MistyTrail, “it could tell them a great deal.”

  “How do you mean?” questioned the Torak.

  “Everyone will want to know why I have returned,” answered the elven princess. “I can tell them that the elves have decided not to get involved in this war and that I felt I had to return to help the Sakovans fight the evil. I do not have to mention that the elven decision has since been overturned.”

  “That is brilliant,” grinned Emperor Marak
. “You can be almost as devious as your sister.”

  “She has taught me much,” chuckled MistyTrail.

  In fact, they met few people on the way to the palace. The evening meal was being served in houses and the palace, and the streets of the city were fairly empty. They made their way to Lyra’s office and walked into the middle of a conversation.

  “Marak! MistyTrail!” beamed Lyra. “What a surprise. I am glad to see both of you.”

  “Why are you not with the elves?” StarWind asked MistyTrail with concern. “Is there something wrong?”

  MistyTrail frowned as she looked at the people in the room. She knew that Ukaro was aware of the problem with spies, but she was not sure about StarWind and Temiker. She decided to play it safe and repeated her line about leaving the elves.

  “You are always welcome here, MistyTrail,” smiled Lyra. “Close the door please.”

  MistyTrail closed the door and Lyra continued, “Temiker has just arrived from Alamar. I will let him start from the beginning so you can evaluate what he is saying.”

  “Do you remember the fisherman in the small village south of Alamar?” Temiker asked MistyTrail.

  “Gerock?” asked MistyTrail. “The one you had the boat made up for?”

  “Yes,” nodded Temiker. “You and Mistake took his old boat to sail to Fakara, but ended up on the Island of Darkness. He came to see me in Alamar recently. His neighbor had a very strange encounter the other night. He heard a noise outside his home and went to investigate. He remembered nothing, but he awoke in the morning outside on the beach. His boat was missing.”

  “Someone stole it?” asked MistyTrail.

  “I think so,” nodded Temiker. “Gerock came to me in hopes that I might supply his friend with a boat, but I became very curious about the affair. I went to the village and spoke to Gerock’s friend. I became suspicious that he had been the victim of a mage, so I investigated him magically. I was able to retrieve his memories sufficiently to understand that two men did indeed steal his boat. At least one of them had to be a mage.”