“Has a new Katana been chosen yet?” questioned Lyra.
“Not yet,” Larst shook his head, “but I expect it to be addressed at tomorrow’s meeting of the Katana’s Council. The council’s search has been exhaustive this time. Every town and city has been questioned for nominees. The next Katana will truly represent the people of Omunga.”
“Excellent,” smiled Lyra. “There is little chance of someone like Alazar gaining control of Omunga then. He was a disaster for all of us. I would not be surprised to see your name at the top of that list, First Minister.”
“That has been mentioned,” blushed Larst. “I am humbled by such praise from my countrymen, but I will assume nothing until the council votes. Whoever is chosen, I will back him completely.”
“I am sure that you will,” nodded Lyra. “I would like a full report on this disease issue, if you can arrange that. Sakovan crops have not been stricken. Perhaps we can make food shipments to those areas that suffer the worst.”
“That would earn the Sakovans great praise from my people,” beamed the First Minister. “Still, I feel like our agreements are all one-sided. The Sakovans are always the givers, and the Omungans the receivers. This hardly seems fair.”
“Peace means more to the Sakovans than anything else you could offer,” smiled Lyra. “We are happy to help our peaceful neighbors in any way that we can. Do not feel as if these agreements are one-sided. We are very happy with what you are offering.”
Larst stood and bowed slightly to the Star of Sakova. “You are a wise leader, Lyra,” he said. “You have given me much to bring to the Katana’s Council tomorrow. We will see peace between our two countries. There is no other possibility when we can sit and work out agreements such as these. Have a safe trip back to your homeland.”
“I shall,” nodded Lyra as she rose. “When shall we meet again?”
“Much depends upon tomorrow’s council meeting,” pondered the First Minister. “If a new Katana is chosen, my schedule will be quite busy for the next fortnight or so. I will post a message as I have done in the past.”
“That will be fine,” agreed Lyra. “If you can get that report on the disease, post it as well. I will have someone pick it up.”
“I will do that before the sun sets today,” offered Larst as he reached the front door of the farmhouse.
The Star of Sakova watched as Larst mounted, and the Imperial Guards escorted him towards the road to Okata. As soon as the Omungans reached the road, two figures stepped out of the shadows near the barn. The two women hurried towards Lyra.
“How did it go?” asked SkyDancer. “It was a short meeting.”
“It did not need to be long,” smiled Lyra. “Larst is truly interested in peace. They may choose a new Katana tomorrow. I hope Larst is the one chosen. He will lead Omunga towards peace with Sakova.”
“The Imperial Guards were very upset with Larst for leaving them outside,” interjected StormSong. “They suspected a Sakovan ambush inside the farmhouse. The fools do not understand the power of our Star. You could have wiped out their entire squad without effort.”
“I prefer not to think in those terms,” frowned Lyra. “We must learn to look at things differently if we are to have peace with the Omungans. We must not always think in terms of defeating them.”
“That is just how StormSong evaluates everything,” chuckled SkyDancer. “To her, all of life is a battle.”
“Well that must change,” Lyra said sternly. “Peace requires many adjustments, and that includes our attitudes towards the Omungans. We must not think of them as adversaries any longer.”
“I want to see true peace before I let my guard down,” retorted StormSong. “We have never been able to trust the Omungans before. Why should this time be any different?”
“Because I want it to be,” sighed Lyra. “Go get our chokas. We will discuss your attitude on the ride back to StarCity.”
* * *
The First Minister of Omunga returned to his office in the Imperial Palace in Okata. His mood was jubilant as he reviewed the papers on his desk. Several other ministers had mentioned that they felt that he was to be nominated at the meeting in the morning. Larst found the thought of becoming the Holy Katana exciting. He would be in a position to truly affect change in the country, and one of the first things he would do would be to sign a peace treaty with the Sakovans. A knock on the door interrupted Larst’s musings.
“I am glad to find you here,” smiled Karnic as he entered the office. “I was looking for you all morning.”
“I had other things to attend to,” frowned the First Minister. “You have enjoyed a close relationship with me for months, Karnic. I have never let anyone know as much about me as I have told you.”
“Well,” smiled Karnic, “I must know all about you if I am to write an accurate history of your rule. I have heard that you will be chosen as Katana tomorrow. This is a big moment in your life. Why are you not celebrating?”
“Because I have to wonder who you are,” Larst replied bluntly. “I sent Imperial Guards to Zaramilden to inquire about you. Nobody has ever heard of you. How can that be?”
“Zaramilden?” echoed Karnic. “Why would you send anyone there to ask about me?”
“That is where you said you were from,” frowned Larst. “I do not like being lied to. What exactly are you up to?”
“I am a historian,” shrugged Karnic. “I told you this months ago. I fully intend to write your life story to preserve it for future generations. I am not surprised that no one in Zaramilden remembers me. I said I was born there, but that is not where I grew up. My family moved to Duran when I was but a babe.”
“Duran?” questioned the First Minister. “Why didn’t you explain that to me earlier? You led me to believe that you were from Zaramilden.”
“I never thought that I would be the topic of discussion,” shrugged Karnic. “I am merely a historian here to write about you. My life is insignificant in the scheme of things. If it will make you feel any better, please send the Imperial Guards to Duran and have them ask about me. I assure you that I am quite well known there.”
“Very well,” sighed Larst, as he appeared to dismiss the issue. “You do understand why I must verify your story. You have had unprecedented access to the First Minister of Omunga. While you have done nothing unusual for a historian, I have an obligation to make sure that you are who you say you are.”
“Absolutely,” Karnic nodded vigorously. “You would be remiss if you did not verify my credentials. Besides, now that I know about your investigation, I look forward to you receiving the report about me. While you have been very gracious to let me pry into your life, I am eager for you to understand that I am perhaps the most respected historian in the country. I have done histories for every major family in eastern Omunga. I am quite proud of my work.”
“Well,” smiled Larst, “you certainly do ask enough questions to accurately record a person’s life. Where did you hear about my potential nomination to become Katana?”
“Everyone in the palace is whispering about it,” grinned Karnic. “This search for a new Katana has been exhaustive. When you are chosen as the next leader of Omunga, you will be rightfully proud that you were chosen because you are the most qualified person in the country. That is something to be very pleased about.”
“I only seek to do the best that I can for Omunga,” Larst replied with a touch of embarrassment. “If I am chosen, I will devote my life to making Omunga a better place to live.”
“I have no doubt that you will succeed as Katana as you have succeeded in everything else you have done,” Karnic smiled politely. “I understand that the Katana is surrounded with special magical shields to protect him from assassins. When does that actually take place? And will I be permitted to record your comments during the process?”