“I am sorry, Myka,” Lyra said softly. “I didn’t know. What happened?”
“I am going to check on the fishermen,” Myka said abruptly. “I will be back soon.”
The dragon leaped into the air and flew out to sea.
“She lost a child?” asked Marak.
“Apparently so,” nodded Lyra. “The hurt is still strong enough that she does not wish to discuss it.”
“I am sorry for my attitude,” apologized the Torak. “I am glad that you demanded to come today, otherwise I might really have made Halman and Gunta unhappy.”
“So you felt vulnerable today?” asked Lyra. “Is that it? Because if that is all that it is, it was a great day indeed. We both must remember the feeling of vulnerability. Kaltara may favor us, but we are not Kaltara. We must never forget that. Any of us can die at any moment, even though we are asked not to fear death.”
“It is not death that scares me,” replied the Torak. “It is the prospect of leaving my work undone. Still, I cannot afford to become too cautious. What Kaltara expects of me will require me to risk my life many times before this is done. I have come to terms with that.”
“You have done well so far,” smiled Lyra. “Without your efforts, none of us would have been ready for this invasion. Keep doing what you have been doing. It will all work out.”
“We are hardly ready for the invasion,” replied Marak. “We are better prepared than we were before, but we know so little about the Motangans.”
“True,” nodded Lyra. “What are we to do about Duran? I mean after we steal their supplies? Won’t they just bring more supplies in here?”
“They might,” Marak answered, “but I have planned a surprise for them. I have brought poison with me. Whatever your fishermen do not take, we will poison.”
“Clever,” nodded Lyra. “The Motangans will soon learn to be suspicious of everything. StarWind arranged to leave barrels of ale in Alamar when we retreated. It is no small wonder that the Motangans did not chase us last night.”
“That was smart,” chuckled Emperor Marak. “You have good people, Lyra. Look, Myka is returning. The fishermen can not be too far off.”
“We do not have to wait here for the ships to arrive,” offered the Star of Sakova. “Those ships are huge. Myka would have no problem landing on one.”
“That suits me well,” nodded the Torak. “Time is valuable right now. The invasion fleets are on their way to Khadora and Fakara. I need to talk to your skimmer pilot to find out what happened with Doralin’s fleet and then I will return you to Breele.”
“Return me to the edge of the Sakovan heartland,” replied Lyra. “We expected the Motangans to attack at dawn. My people will not put up much of a fight until we are in the forests. For now we will retreat each time they engage us.”
* * *
“We can rest here,” declared StarWind as they reached the crest of a small hill. “We do not want to lose the Motangans.”
The Sakovans dismounted and immediately started to set up a temporary camp. Campfires were started and sentries were selected, although there was little need for sentries. The terrain west of Breele was mostly meadows and gradually rose in elevation as one got closer to the heartland. From their current vantage point, the Sakovans could see the Motangan vanguard in the distance. The sea of red uniforms stretched out as far as the Sakovans could see.
“They must know that we are baiting them,” HawkShadow said to StarWind. “Every time we get some ground between us, we start up the fires and have a meal, and they keep marching until they reach us. They are not fools.”
“I do not take them for fools, HawkShadow,” replied the spymaster. “Yes, they know that we are baiting them, but it doesn’t matter to them. They will keep coming after us until we are all dead. They do not need to hurry.”
“But we are mounted,” frowned HawkShadow, “and they are not. We could run rings around them. How do they ever plan to catch us?”
“I am sure that they have strategies worked out for that,” replied StarWind, “but I will not pretend to know what they are. I can make guesses though. They have many more men than we do. They can afford to spread out as they pursue us. They can also break off armies that will not be seen by us, because we are watching this big red horde out there. Sure, we have speed on them, but where are we going to go? They plan to conquer the entire landmass. There will be no hiding place for us.”
“StarWind is right,” interjected General Didyk. “They can slowly follow us to the west coast, or the south coast, or the Kalatung Mountains, but they will eventually surround us and kill us. Even if we cross the mountains into Khadora, they will follow us. Worse, their armies in Khadora will probably be waiting for us.”
“But we can continually attack them and run,” argued HawkShadow.
“We can,” agreed General Didyk, “and I suspect that they expect us to do just that. They look forward to each and every encounter with us, whether it is initiated by them or us. That is the strategy for fighting when you have such vast numerical superiority. They can easily afford to trade us man for man. They will still have a huge army left when we are all dead.”
“I have no intention of trading warriors with them,” scoffed HawkShadow. “At least not on an even basis. We will hit and run, but the results will not be to their liking.”
“On that we agree,” grinned StarWind. “Come sit with me and go over this map, HawkShadow. You know the heartland better than anyone alive. Give me your ideas on where we should stage our actions.”
General Didyk left the couple and strode across the makeshift campsite. He saw a small group of Sakovans sitting quietly and approached them.
“I heard about the loss of your friend, SilverEdge,” the general said. “I wanted to let you know that I share your grief of his loss. Not too long ago, we were enemies, but I have grown to admire you people. I heard about your heroic stand in Alamar to make sure that the mages and General Manitow got out safely. You have earned the respect of me and my men.”
“Thank you, General,” nodded Goral as Didyk walked away.
“One would think that defeating him in war would have already earned his respect,” snapped SkyDancer.
“That is uncalled for,” chided DarkBlade. “While he may not have known SilverEdge personally, I think his sorrow was genuine.”
“Many Imperial Guards also died in Alamar,” added StormSong. “Have you told their friends how sorry you are for their loss?”
“I didn’t ask for his sorrow,” spat SkyDancer as she rose and stormed off.
“What is wrong with her?” frowned StormSong. “You would think that the Omungans are still our enemies by her attitude.”
“She fears losing those who are close to her,” shrugged DarkBlade.
“Don’t we all?” asked StormSong. “We all loved SilverEdge. Why is her burden so much greater than ours?”
“It is more than the loss of SilverEdge that bothers her,” Goral said softly. “She mourns for the future losses as well as the past.”
StormSong frowned at Goral and shook her head. “Now I know why you don’t talk much, Goral,” she said. “When you do open your mouth, nothing understandable comes out.”
Goral shrugged but did not reply. StormSong sighed with exasperation and strode off towards the campfire. DarkBlade sat next to Goral and began to sharpen his sword.
“What did you mean by that, Goral?” he asked. “What exactly does SkyDancer fear?”
“SkyDancer is in love,” Goral said softly. “SilverEdge’s death showed her just how fragile life is these days. She fears losing the object of her love to this war. That makes her hate this war very much.”
“She thinks that HawkShadow is going to die?” questioned DarkBlade.
“What do I know?” replied the giant. “You should ask SkyDancer about her feelings.”
“I know you well enough, Goral,” chuckled DarkBlade. “I don’t buy the stupid giant routine at all. Others may think that you are slow, and you may enjoy them thinking that, but I know better. Does she think that HawkShadow is going to die?”