“If you are correct about their plan of attack,” offered General Smythe, “we could slowly retreat around the coast. It is usually a losing battle when you try to retreat safely, but what other option is there?”
“Fleeing and regrouping,” suggested General Didyk. “We know the geography much better than they do, and the Sakovans taught me a vital lesson that I will not soon forget. We can make sure that there is no food available along the coast. Just supplying their own armies will slow them down. We can regroup at a time and place of our choosing and attack them when they least expect it.”
“Actually,” General Papper interjected thoughtfully, “a combination of those two plans would be best. If we divide our forces into two segments, the smaller group can slowly retreat along the coast, burning fields along the way. The larger segment can slip into the heart of the Sakova and then be used for surprise attacks.”
“You men are beginning to think like Sakovans,” grinned Lyra. “Let’s work up a tentative plan and see if we can find any holes in it. Approach it as if it is just a shell of an idea. What I mean by that is to think freely as we design this. I am sure that we can make improvements as we go along.”
* * *
Emperor Marak was staring at the wall map in his office in the Imperial Palace in Khadoratung when a knock sounded on the door. He gave permission to enter without taking his eyes from the map. He heard the door open and close, but little else. Still, that small amount of knowledge told him a great deal. The footsteps were soft and had only traveled half way across the room.
“You are getting lax,” chided the visitor. “Never depend on the guards to properly screen your visitors. I don’t want to find you dead one day.”
Marak pivoted swiftly, his arm moving in a blur as the Sakovan star sailed through the air. It slammed into the floor less than a pace in front of the visitor’s feet. Marak grinned.
“Your words are well taken, friend,” smiled the Emperor as he stared at the priest of Kaltara. “Why the new disguise?”
“I do not want to limit my access to you by portraying only an Imperial Guard,” shrugged Fisher as he bent down and pried the star out of the wooden floor. “There may come a time when that disguise will not be enough to gain me entry. By the way, you would have missed me by over a pace with that star.”
“No, I wouldn’t have,” grinned Marak. “Had I not noticed your unique walk, I would have aimed higher.”
Fisher grinned and shook his head as he walked to the Emperor and handed back the star. “A unique walk?” he frowned. “How do you mean?”
“Other people try to walk softly when they are creeping up on someone,” explained Marak. “It makes their steps very deliberate. You walk naturally, but silently. I am not sure if that is a good explanation, but I understand the difference. That is all that matters.”
“I will have to pay more attention to my walking now,” chuckled the spy.
“Don’t,” Marak shook his head. “Your walking is perfect. If you think about it, you will lessen your stealth.” The Emperor returned the star to his pouch and sighed softly, “I am glad that you have come. We have a problem.”
“You always have a problem,” replied Fisher. “What is the nature of this one?”
“There is a stirring among the clan lords,” explained Emperor Marak. “Some of them are planning a revolt of sorts. I need you to identify the players.”
“That is exactly what I have been doing,” grinned Fisher. “You are talking about what started with the Seth clan I presume?”
“How did you know so soon?” asked the Emperor.
“I am a spy,” laughed Fisher. “Actually, I spoke with Yenga shortly after he found out about it. I have been working on it ever since. I stopped by to let you know what I have found out so far.”
“Come and sit,” urged the Emperor as he retreated to his desk. “I want to hear what you have found out.”
Fisher sat in front of the Emperor’s desk while the Torak sat behind it.
“Marshal Orteka was wise enough to have one of his men shadow Lord Sydar when he left the Litari estate,” Fisher began. “The Seth lord has been doing a lot of visiting in the south, and he is not the only one. Lord Woroman of the Disina clan has also been making short, discreet visits to the frontier clans.”
“Those two clans have unresolved boundary disputes with the Chula,” noted the Torak. “That may be what ties them together.”
“They are also neighbors,” nodded Fisher. “Have you been told what the conversation with Lord Burdine was about?”
“Yes,” nodded Marak. “They plan to cause a vote in the Assembly of Lords revoking my reforms, but Lord Burdine was not able to tell me much about it.”
“That is because he learned very little,” replied Fisher. “The plotters are very reluctant to speak about the plan. At this point they are merely seeking out clans that are unhappy with the reforms. When they find one, they make rather simplistic promises of having a chance to vote against the reforms, but they steadfastly refuse to name the other clans involved.”
“That will make it practically impossible to find out what I am up against,” frowned the Emperor.
“That is not entirely true,” grinned Fisher. “There are many ways to pierce the veil of secrecy on any plan of the clans.”
“Such as?” asked Marak.
“You have two cortes of troops from each and every clan in Khadoratung at all times,” answered Fisher. “I took the liberty of mingling with some of them recently. The visits that the Seth and Disina clans have been making started fairly recently. The first visit made by either clan, was made by both of them at the same time. Both the Seth and the Disina visited with the Rican clan just before the traveling started.”
“Another clan with a boundary dispute,” nodded the Emperor. “Is Lord Padro also making the rounds among his neighbors?”
“Not exactly,” answered Fisher. “Lord Padro is certainly visiting other clans, but not in the south. I learned from Katzu that the Rican lord has been busy visiting some old enemies of yours. He saw Lord Padro at the Pikata estate. He also heard that the Rican lord had already been to see the Vessi, Glamaraldi, and Lejune clans.”
“The four clans that hosted the Jiadin,” nodded the Emperor. “Now what Lord Burdine said makes sense. He said that Lord Sydar told him that clans that were already on my poor side would be the ones to ask for the vote. So Lord Padro is definitely one of the plotters.”
“So it seems,” nodded Fisher. “What I haven’t been able to find out is who else is involved. I can find out who was visited, but not what they talked about or agreed to.”
“You have found out a great deal already,” smiled Marak.
“And what are you going to do with the information now that you have it?” asked the spy.
“I am not sure,” Marak admitted. “It helps knowing the major players, but Khadora cannot afford this type of nonsense right now. The Time of Cleansing is coming very soon. I can feel it.”
“I could eliminate a few of the players for you,” suggested Fisher.
“No,” the Torak shook his head. “That is not the way to build unity. I want to make these rebellious lords understand that there are greater things at stake than their estates. We need every fighter we can find, and I do not plan to turn any of them away.”
“I understand,” shrugged Fisher, “but if you change your mind, let me know.”
“You have such confidence in yourself,” chuckled Marak. “Assassinating a clan lord is not an easy task, yet you offer it so easily.”
“I understand what is at stake,” Fisher replied seriously. “The odds of any of us surviving this coming war are slim. What difference does it make if my contribution comes before the war or during it? The offer is a serious one.”
“And I will take it as such,” Marak nodded soberly. “Let me try to find a better approach first. If I cannot dissuade these lords within the bounds of the law, then we shall talk again about this matt
er.”
“You have already called for an Assembly of Lords,” Fisher pointed out. “This is likely to be the last one before the fighting starts. Whatever you have planned, you must do it soon.”
“Agreed,” nodded Emperor Marak. “It must be resolved at that meeting.”
“Do you want me to continue pursuing this matter?” asked Fisher.
“No,” Marak shook his head. “I think you have identified the major players. If I can find a way to handle them, the rest will fall into line. Have we heard from Aakuta?”
“Not a word,” frowned Fisher. “I fear the worst. I do have another man on the Island of Darkness now. He will not provide a great deal of intelligence, but he should be able to notify us when the ships leave port.”
“Who is it?” asked the Torak.
“I do not think you have ever met him,” answered Fisher. “His name is Calitora. He is a Chula shaman.”
“An excellent choice,” approved Marak. “Can we communicate with him?”
“We can,” replied Fisher. “He confines himself to the mountain peaks so there is no chance of our conversations being overheard. Why do you ask?”
“I am not sure,” the Torak admitted. “It is just good to know that we can ask for specific intelligence if we need to. We know a great deal about the coastline of the Island of Darkness, but we have little knowledge of the interior. Perhaps this shaman can provide that knowledge?”
“Calitora has the ability to travel in feline form,” nodded Fisher. “That would make mapping the interior possible without alerting the Motangans. I will pass your request on to him.”
Marak nodded with appreciation and changed the subject, “What Chula tribes border the estates of our three rebellious lords?”
“One tribe borders all three estates,” replied Fisher. “It is the Sookie tribe. The leader’s name is Grundar. Why do you ask?”
“I want to meet him,” replied the Torak. “I have been very thorough in meeting all of the Khadoran lords, but the same is not true of the Chula chieftains. Someone should have berated me for that lapse. Do you know Grundar?”
“I have met him,” nodded Fisher. “He is a bear of a man, but very friendly.”
“How long would it take for all of the Chula chieftains to get to Changragar?” asked Marak.
“If it was important,” mused Fisher, “two days at the most. Perhaps even one day might suffice. The Chula will race night and day if it is required of them. What are you planning?”
“I want to meet all of them as soon as possible,” declared the Torak. “You have reminded me that this will be the last Assembly of Lords before the war. Shouldn’t I make the effort to meet my Chula brothers?”
“You certainly should,” Fisher grinned broadly. “May I have the honor of setting it up?”
“Please do,” nodded Marak. “With the secret door to Changragar, I can be there quickly. Just let me know when to arrive.”
“I will come and get you personally,” promised Fisher.
Chapter 16
Changing Boundaries
The ship glided noiselessly along the Sakovan coast south of Alamar. The night was young and dark, the moon not yet risen. The coastline was hard to see, and men lined the rails listening for the telltale sounds of the surf. The smell of wood smoke drifted lightly in the air, and the captain of the ship knew that he was close to his destination. So did his two special passengers who arrived alongside the helm as if the captain had summoned them.
“We are close,” one of the passengers declared. “Bring the ship to a halt and lower the small boat.”
“I can get you in closer,” offered the captain.
“You will follow my orders,” the passenger replied tersely.
The captain slowly backed away and nodded his head. He turned and snared one of the crew and told him to inform the rest of the crew that the passengers were leaving. Within minutes the ship slowed down as the crew raced around silently preparing for the departure. The captain nodded in satisfaction at the performance of his men.
“They will lower the small boat in just a minute,” the captain said to his passengers. “What about picking you back up?”
“Tomorrow night at this same time,” instructed the passenger, “you will be as far north of Alamar as you are now south of it. I will meet you there in a small boat of my own. If I am not there, return the following night. If again I do not show, return home.”
“Just one of you will be returning?” asked the captain.
“Your task, Captain, is to follow my orders,” snapped the passenger, “not to ask questions.”
“Yes, Sir,” apologized the captain. “I will be at the right spot tomorrow night. Your small boat is ready.”
The passengers spun and headed for the rail, while the mate walked up alongside the captain.
“You came close that time, Captain,” the mate said softly. “Other captains that I have sailed with have a golden rule when they carry Clarvoy as a passenger.”
“And I suppose that you are about to tell me that rule?” sighed the captain.
“Indeed, I am,” replied the mate. “Never, ever, speak to Clarvoy unless you are required to. I have seen captains thrown overboard for offending him. It is not a healthy thing to do.”
“I will try to remember that,” snarled the captain. “I hope that he…”
“Don’t finish that thought,” warned the mate. “Even thinking such a thought is inviting death. You are new to these voyages. Listen to one who has made many of them. You may find that several of your crew are in Clarvoy’s employ.”
“For what purpose?” asked the captain.
“Vand requires a lot of ship captains to man his fleet,” explained the mate. “He rotates captains on these voyages to train them. What better use of a spy then to watch a man that will be carrying a thousand of his warriors into battle? You are being watched and evaluated on this voyage, Captain. Make sure you put your best face forward.”
A crewman approached the helm and stood before the captain.
“Small boat away, Sir,” the crewman reported. “We can hear the surf from the starboard rail. I suspect the small boat will return fairly quickly.”
“Let me know as soon as we have it aboard,” ordered the captain.
“Aye, Sir,” nodded the crewman as he departed.
“Thank you, Mate,” the captain said softly. “I could not have imagined spies among my own crew.”
“My pleasure, Sir,” smiled the mate. “As captains go, you’ve been a good one. I wouldn’t want to lose you.”
“I was just trying to do my best,” shrugged the captain. “I just hope they get to the beach safely.”
“They should be there now,” replied the mate.
* * *
The small boat slid up on the beach, and the two men immediately jumped out and pushed it back into the surf. As the crewmen rowed the small boat back to its mother ship, Clarvoy led the mage away from the waterline.
“Which way?” asked the mage as he looked up and down the beach for any signs of life.
“North,” answered Clarvoy. “There is a small fishing village not far up the beach. That is the origin of the wood smoke we have been smelling. Do you know how to sail, Pango?”
“Somewhat,” answered the mage. “I sailed a bit in my younger days, but not extensively.”
“That will do,” replied Clarvoy. “Be very quiet as we approach the village. If we are discovered, use a memory spell on the villagers. Do not kill them. It is important that our passing not be detected.”
“I understand,” nodded Pango.
The two dark-clothed men walked quietly along the beach until they came to the edge of the fishing village. A row of tiny one-room shacks sat back from the water. On the beach in front of each shack sat a small fishing boat. Clarvoy stared at the boats in the darkness for a moment, waiting to see if anything moved on the beach. When he was satisfied that the fishermen were all inside their shacks, he led the mage
to one of the older boats. He touched Pango on the arm and pointed to the chosen boat. Pango picked up the bow of the small boat and slid it into the surf. When he turned to help Clarvoy into the boat, he found the spymaster missing.
A shiver of fear raced up Pango’s spine as his eyes scanned the dark beach looking for his master. He sighed with relief when he saw Clarvoy emerge from alongside the shack. They quickly got into the boat and started paddling out to sea. Even before they emerged from the surf, Pango had the small sail hoisted to catch the breeze. Within moments the land was no longer visible.
“I was worried about you back there,” Pango admitted.
“The fisherman must have sensed something,” explained Clarvoy. “Fortunately, I sensed the fisherman. He will not remember anything in the morning.”
“Won’t he report his boat stolen?” asked the mage.
“Report it to who?” asked Clarvoy. “There is no law in villages like that one.”
“I hadn’t thought about that,” conceded the mage.
“There is much about the Sakova that will appear foreign to you,” nodded the spymaster. “Even the lessons that you have already had on Motanga will not adequately prepare you for this task. Fortunately, we have many hours alone on this boat before we part company. Let me spend that time by telling you all about your target host. By the time we dock in Alamar tomorrow with the rest of the fishermen coming in from the sea, you will know much about the Sakovans and how they act.”
“What can you tell me of the host?” Pango asked nervously.
Clarvoy smiled knowingly and shook his head. “Put such fears behind you, Pango,” he advised. “You will appreciate your new body. The Sakovans are a very fit and hardy people. You will luxuriate in the youth and vitality of your host.”
* * *
HawkShadow appeared at ease as he walked along the streets of Alamar, but the Sakovan assassin was never at ease. His head moved slightly as he walked. Although the movement appeared casual, it allowed HawkShadow to constantly gaze around himself, categorizing people, analyzing potential threats, and looking for that one person who stood out from the rest because of some anomaly. He discovered nothing disturbing on his walk to the Alamar School of Magic.
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