“Wily?” frowned the general. “In what way?”
“In every way possible,” replied the premer. “Do you think it is purely accidental that there is not a scrap of food in this entire city, yet there are stockpiles of ale? I should be pushing towards Breele to keep the Sakovans off balance; instead I have a city full of drunken soldiers. This is no accident. The Sakovans have planned well for this invasion.”
“The ale is a problem,” agreed the general, “but I am not sure that I agree totally with your assessment. We took Alamar in one day. If the Sakovans had planned well, we would still be trying to get ashore.”
“Would we?” the premer asked skeptically. “I don’t think the Sakovans want to fight us in the city. I think they plan to lure us into remote terrain that only they have any knowledge of. Look at this map Clarvoy supplied. It shows exacting details of every city, village, and road in the entire country, but what do you see in the center of it all?”
“Nothing,” shrugged Valatosa. “It is all forest. What is there to chart?”
“How about individual mountain passes?” prompted the premer. “Rivers? Lakes? Where is this famed StarCity? There is nothing in the center of this map.”
“Over the past few years,” responded General Valatosa, “when it was clear what sector I would be assigned to, I made a point of reading everything I could about Omunga, as the country was called at that time. It consisted only of the coastal cities. The interior of the country was a void, as it is on this map. It was known as the Sakova, but no one dared to enter it. Omungans who tried to were never heard from again. I can well expect the same held true for Clarvoy’s spies. I am troubled somewhat by a lack of geographic features, but I think we can overcome that deficit.”
“We have read the same reports,” replied Premer Doralin, “but I do not share your optimism. I know when I am being lured into a trap, yet I truly have no say in the matter. The Sakovans have retreated into their heartland. We must follow them.”
“Agreed,” nodded the general. “What help is it that you require from me?”
“I want your army to be more than the spearhead,” answered the premer. “I want your men to be my eyes and ears within the other armies.”
“That is highly irregular,” frowned the general. “My men are not trained to spy on others. They are elite warriors.”
“Understood,” sighed Doralin. “I am not asking for spies. I am asking that they merely let me know what is happening in a general sense. Take this ale problem for example. I noticed that only your men refused to imbibe in the free ale this evening.”
“I would not tolerate it,” frowned General Valatosa. “My men know that.”
“Exactly,” nodded Doralin. “And if I had known about the problem early enough, I could have prevented the other armies from indulging. That is the type of information that I am looking for. Have your men be alert for these wily tricks of the Sakovans. Have them notify me when something is amiss. That is all that I am asking for.”
“I have no problem with that,” agreed the general. “I do question your pessimism in regards to the Sakovans though. I do not see them as being clever. The lack of details on the maps is logical. As for the ale, why would they cart it through the forests with them when they were forced to flee? I think the Sakovans hold no more surprises for us.”
Several blocks away from Temiker’s schoolhouse, where the premer and the general were talking, the Maritako River ran through the city of Alamar. At that very moment, in the dark of night, small boats of various designs were floating down the river and through the city. Were anyone to glance upon the boats, they would have appeared empty, but a closer inspection would have revealed Sakovan fishermen in the bottom of the vessels covered by dark tarps.
As the river carried the fishing boats into the sea, the fisherman rose from their concealment. They hoisted their sails only far enough to catch the gentle breeze required to propel the crafts to the large ships off the coast. The small boats scattered over a wide area and then, using signals to select their quarry, converged on a small fleet of behemoths that appeared undamaged.
The small boats tied off to the sterns of the behemoths, and the fisherman stealthily climbed aboard. In a slow and methodical manner, the fishermen silently murdered the crews. Even after they had control of the ships, they did not act with nervous hurriedness. They slowly and quietly raised the anchors of each of the ships, allowing the outgoing tide to carry the vessels away from Alamar. When the leviathans were well offshore, the sails were raised on the new Sakovan fleet. In a tight formation, the ten ships headed north without the Motangans being alerted.
“For fishermen,” chuckled Temiker, “your men make great thieves. Ten ships are far more than we thought was possible.”
“That is what made it possible,” grinned Chargo as he pointed to the barrel of ale. The whole fleet was drunk. We could have taken every ship if we had more men.”
“As most thieves eventually find out,” frowned Temiker, “greed is a killer. If an alarm had been given, you would have found out that even drunken mages can cast spells. I would assume that holds true for archers as well, but I was never good with a bow. What will you do with the fishing boats that we are towing? It will be hard to appear Motangan with them being towed.”
“There is a cove up the coast a ways,” answered Chargo. “We will stop and anchor them there. Hopefully they will last through the war so that the fisherman can earn a living when this is all over.”
“So you expect the Sakovans to win this war?” asked Temiker. “The odds are against it.”
“I have gone against the odds before,” shrugged Chargo. “If I am wrong, we will all be dead, and the fishermen won’t care about their boats, but I expect to be around. Kaltara is strong.”
“You believe in Kaltara?” asked Temiker. “You were an Omungan, weren’t you?”
“I was Omungan,” nodded Chargo. “I had the pleasure of being on the same ship with the Star of Sakova the day she accepted Duran’s surrender. That day changed my life. How can I not believe in a God that can do miracles? Because that is exactly what Kaltara has enabled Lyra to do. I had a long talk with her on that voyage. My faith has not faltered since.”
“She is a remarkable woman, my niece,” smiled the old mage. “I should notify her of our success. Sometimes she worries too much.”
* * *
“Ten?” gasped Emperor Marak as he stood on the roof of the palace in Khadoratung. “Your people are incredible, Lyra. We can make great use of those ships.”
“There is more,” continued the Star of Sakova. “They found a skimmer floating in the ocean. In fact, they almost ran over it. There were two bodies in it. One of them was alive, a fisherman named Formone. Temiker is doing what he can for the man right now, but we aren’t sure if he will live.”
“None of the skimmers returned,” frowned the Emperor. “Is that correct?”
“That is correct,” answered Lyra. “I think this man may have the information about what went wrong.”
“I want to talk to him,” decided the Torak. “Where are the ships now?”
“On their way to Duran,” replied Lyra. “They are going to steal the supplies the Motangans have left there.”
“There are Motangan soldiers in Duran,” warned Marak.
“I thought you were not sure,” responded Lyra.
“I had Myka fly over again on the way to Changragar,” the Torak said. “It was not a lot of soldiers, but even a single corte is far too many for fishermen to go up against. They must not enter Duran.”
“Temiker is with them,” advised Lyra. “His magic should help.”
“It would,” replied the Torak, “except that Temiker is on one of the ships. They most certainly will have a mage in Duran who knows how to use an air tunnel. Let’s not let Vand know that we have his ships.”
“And let him keep the supplies?” frowned the Star of Sakova. “I don’t think so. Besides, those fishermen would not accept my orders to turn back. In fact, I am quite sure that Temiker would suddenly have trouble hearing my orders.”