The ship glided across the calm sea to the northwest as Lyra sat on an overturned barrel gazing at the rugged coastline. The craggy cliffs rose vertically over a hundred paces high. It was an impenetrable wall that stretched as far as she could see in both directions.
“It is the Wall of Mermidion,” declared one of the Omungan sailors as he approached and sat on a bucket. “It cuts Duran off from the rest of Omunga.”
“I have heard of it before,” nodded the Star of Sakova, “but that is not the same as actually seeing it. It is massive. The ancient scrolls say that it was formed by the ground Kaltara took away from the river when he created the Wound of Kaltara.”
“I have heard of the Wound of Kaltara,” commented the sailor. “I have not seen it and cannot imagine a canyon as massive as it has been described.”
“It is wider and deeper than anything you can imagine,” smiled Lyra. “The power of Kaltara is awesome.”
“This Kaltara is your god?” asked the sailor.
“He is the only god,” nodded Lyra. “He is yours, too, if only you will let him be.”
“I have little faith in gods,” frowned the sailor. “If there were gods, the people would not suffer so.”
“Have you ever thought that maybe the people suffer because they do not have faith in god?” posed Lyra.
“I have never looked at it that way,” admitted the sailor. “Do all Sakovans believe in Kaltara?”
“Every one,” declared Lyra.
“Are they happy?” probed the sailor.
“Yes,” smiled Lyra. “They are happy with Kaltara. We could all live happy lives if it were not for men who thirsted for gold and power. This is the second time during my short life that the Katana of Omunga has declared war on the Sakovans. Each time it has been when the Omungans had troubles of their own. If they spent a fraction of their efforts in solving their own problems, they would have no reason to bother us.”
“I remember hearing of the last time,” responded the Omungan sailor. “The Sakovans burned watula fields in Campanil.”
“That was a lie,” frowned Lyra. “Mayor Ferde of Campanil exposed the lie. It was a trick by Alazar to stir the people towards war. You have seen Sakovans as few Omungans have. Do you really think that we would destroy Omungan crops?”
“I cannot imagine it,” admitted the sailor. “I think what you are doing for the people of Alamar is a wondrous thing. You have brought us food when our own government would not. The people will never forget that.”
“I wish that were true,” sighed Lyra. “If the Katana sends troops into Alamar, the people will forget our kindness soon enough.”
“Oh, no,” protested the sailor. “Never believe that. The people of Alamar would stand between you and the troops. They will never forget.”
“That is not the impression that I got from General Manitow,” retorted the Star of Sakova. “While he is willing to let the deliveries continue, he would change his mind quickly if Okata soldiers arrived.”
“He is an Imperial Guard,” explained the sailor. “They are servants of the Katana. He thinks the Katana is perfect and right in everything he does.”
“And you don’t?” inquired Lyra.
“You know little about the people of Omunga,” smiled the sailor. “The Katana means nothing to us. It may be different in other cities, but the provinces in the eastern part of the country feel like we are being used. In all of history there has never been a Katana chosen from the eastern provinces. They all come from the west. Most of them come from Okata. We have never even had a minister on the Katana’s Council. It is like we are ruled by foreigners.”
“Is that true?” Lyra asked with surprise. “Not a single minister has come from Alamar?”
“Not just Alamar,” corrected the sailor. “Duran and Zaramilden are eastern cities, too. Our half of Omunga is only good for paying taxes.”
“You do have Imperial Guards to protect you,” Lyra pointed out.
“Protect us?” chuckled the sailor. “From what? Are they protecting us from receiving food from the Sakovans? Do not be deceived. The Imperial Guards are in Alamar to maintain order, not to protect us. They are meant to stop us from revolting.”
“I can’t see General Manitow going so far as to slaughter the people of Alamar,” frowned Lyra.
“No,” admitted the sailor. “I don’t think he would either, but that is what he is supposed to do. The problem with the original plan for keeping order is that the regional Imperial Guards eventually become part of the city. In Alamar, practically all of the soldiers are either from the region, or have married someone who is. They are citizens as well as soldiers. If General Manitow ordered his men to attack innocent citizens, the soldiers would revolt.”
“Interesting,” mused Lyra. “What would happen if soldiers came in from Okata?”
“That is a different story,” frowned the sailor. “Those soldiers do not care for the people of Alamar. They would be merciless in quelling the disturbance.”
“What would the regional soldiers do then?” asked Lyra.
“I am not sure,” shrugged the sailor. “I know if their own families were threatened, they would join the citizens, but that is a hard question to answer. They would be torn between two loyalties. I think it would depend on how harsh the Katana’s soldiers became. If it was just a matter of halting demonstrations and things of that nature, I am sure the regional soldiers would not interfere. But if it is was bloody, I think they would defend the citizens if they thought they could make a difference.”
“You said before that the citizens of Alamar would stand between the troops and the Sakovans if trouble came,” reminded Lyra. “What would the regional soldiers do then?”
The sailor sat silently for a moment, staring at the Wall of Mermidion. Finally, he said, “I think they would stand with the citizens.”
“Why?” inquired Lyra.
“Because every citizen’s life would be in danger,” explained the sailor. “If we defied the Katana, the local soldiers know that the punishment would be death. They could not stand by and see their loved ones killed. They would stand by us.”
“Interesting,” must Lyra. “Let us hope that it never comes to that. I prefer to gain peace without bloodshed. Do you think the same would be true for the Imperial Guards in Duran and Zaramilden?”
“Duran has no real Imperial Guards,” replied the sailor. “They have men who are allowed to wear the uniforms, but they are strictly local soldiers. They receive no training and are not allowed to transfer. It is because Duran is so isolated.”
“And Zaramilden?” prompted the Star of Sakova.
“Zaramilden is not as isolated as Duran,” answered the sailor. “To reach Duran, you must go by boat. The Wall of Mermidion ends at Zaramilden, so there is access to the land, but it doesn’t help much. The only places they can go are into the Sakova or into Khadora. Some merchants do indeed cross the mountains into Khadora and then reenter Omunga near Gatong, but not many.”
“And of course armies would not attempt that route,” surmised Lyra.
“Oh no,” the sailor shook his head. “The Khadorans would never allow Omungan soldiers to enter their country. Sometimes they even turn the merchants back.”
“You have taught me much,” smiled Lyra. “What is your name?”
“I am called Chargo,” answered the sailor. “You have also given me much to think about. I would like to learn more about the Sakovans and Kaltara. It is said that you are the Star of Sakova. Is that like a Katana?”
“I am the leader of the Sakovans,” explained Lyra, “much like the Katana is the leader of the Omungans, but I think the similarities stop there. I was not chosen by the Sakovans to lead them. Kaltara chose me.”
“You were chosen by a god?” gasped the sailor. “Do you really mean that? How did he choose you? Were your parents leaders before you?”
“He prophesized my coming,” explained Lyra. “It was a shock to me as well as the Sakovans. I grew up in Omunga.”
“You are Omungan?” Chargo interrupted with surprise. “How can that be?”
“It is a long story,” Lyra said as she removed her ring and showed Chargo the blue star on her finger. “One day this star appeared on my finger. I did not know what it meant, but the Sakovans did. They proclaimed me to be their leader. I thought it was a mistake until Kaltara talked to me.”
“He actually talked to you?” Chargo asked in awe.
“He did,” nodded Lyra as she slipped the ring back onto her finger. “He made me understand what I needed to know.”
“What did the old Star do?” asked Chargo. “Did he step down or die?”
“I am the first Star of Sakova in over a thousand years,” declared Lyra. “There has not been one since the Omungans came to this land.”
The sailor fell silent and gaped at Lyra as he realized the significance of her words. He suddenly dropped to his knees and bowed to Lyra.
“I have been brash, Star of Sakova,” he said. “I should not be talking to you like another sailor.”
Lyra shook her head and gently took the sailor’s arm and pulled him up.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” smiled the Star of Sakova. “I have enjoyed talking with you, and you must not change the way you were. Just call me Lyra.”
“But that seems so wrong for one chosen by a god,” frowned the sailor.
“He chose me to lead my people,” replied Lyra, “not to be worshipped by them. Worship is reserved to honor Kaltara,” she smiled. “How long before we get to Duran?”
The sailor gazed over the bow and pointed. “There it is before us,” Chargo announced. “What do you plan to do there? There is not much in Duran except houses and fields.”
Lyra stared at Chargo for a moment before realizing that the sailors would know the outcome of what happened in Duran no matter what she said.
“I plan to ask the city of Duran to join the Sakova,” declared Lyra.
“Do you mean that you are going to ask them to leave Omunga?” questioned the sailor.
“Yes,” nodded Lyra. “I had hoped that we could avoid war with Omunga as we did last time, but that is not going to happen. Already thousands of Omungans soldiers are invading the Sakova. We are going to have to fight. I plan to rally the cities that Omunga has ignored for so long. I want them on my side.”
Chargo’s mouth opened in surprise. He shook his head slowly.
“I don’t know if that is possible,” he said.
“Why not?” asked Lyra.
“I don’t know,” replied Chargo. “It has always been Omungan. Why would they change?”
“You already said that Okata ignored them,” reminded the Star. “What has Omunga done for them?”
“Nothing,” admitted the sailor, “but neither has Sakova.”
“I plan to change that,” smiled Lyra. “Alamar is not the only Omungan city that the Sakovans have been feeding. We have been sending caravans to the western cities as well. I plan to bring food into Duran to ease their plight.”
“But only if they switch sides?” asked Chargo.
“Yes,” admitted Lyra. “When we decided to ship food to the Omungans, we did it because the people were starving. That alone was reason enough. Things have changed now. The Imperial Guards are stopping our shipments to the cities.”
“Stopping them?” Chargo asked with anger. “Why would they do that?”
“Because that is what the Katana has ordered,” explained Lyra. “He has decided to use the starvation of the Omungan people as a weapon against the Sakovans. He is blaming the disease on us. I plan to retaliate. I will use our food as a weapon against him. Any city that is willing to become Sakovan, will have free food to eat and their fields restored to good health.”
“Will you also demand that Alamar become Sakovan?” asked the sailor.
“I cannot ask that,” declared Lyra. “I would like to, but I have already given my word to the people of Alamar. I will not break it.”
“But you will continue to send food to us?” questioned the sailor.
“We will continue to send food to Alamar,” nodded Lyra. “We will also help you restore your fields as long as General Manitow guarantees our safety. That is the deal we made.”
“I am impressed that you are honoring that deal,” smiled Chargo. “Our leaders in Okata would not. Would you accept Alamar into the Sakova if the people wanted it?”
“Of course,” smiled Lyra. “The people of Alamar have proven to be a wonderful people. I would be proud to have them, but I cannot ask them.”
“But I can,” grinned the sailor. “I like everything that I have seen about the Sakovans. You treat us with respect and truly care for us. That is the kind of leader that we deserve. I will talk to the other citizens when we return.”
“I appreciate that Chargo,” smiled Lyra, “but do not get yourself in trouble. You must let the people know that we will continue to feed them no mater who they swear allegiance to. Do not deceive them.”
“I would not deceive them,” promised Chargo. “I have no reason to. I suspect that most of my fellow citizens will jump at the chance to switch sides. I think most of the soldiers will agree as well.”
The ship suddenly turned, and Lyra saw the city of Duran looming before them. Chargo rose and began preparing lines for the docking. Lyra gazed at the peaceful city set on the edge of a large plain. The plain was surrounded by the Wall of Mermidion on one side, and the ocean on the other.
Lyra watched with interest as the ship glided into the harbor. Small boats dotted the waterfront, and the buildings were gaily painted. It was a pleasant looking city.
As the ship neared the dock, Lyra was able see people. They looked weak and frail. She could see the ribcages of the bare-chested men stringing out nets on the beach. Small children ran through the streets. Lyra imagined that they had not had a decent meal in a long time. She began to feel morose about her plan. She knew at that moment that she would order Marak’s ship into port no matter what the mayor said about switching sides. Kaltara would not want these people to go hungry.
Chargo came forward again with dock lines, and Lyra backed out of the way. She was glad for the disruption as she turned her eyes away from the starving citizens. Within minutes the ship was tied to the dock and a gangplank was attached to it. Lyra hurried off the ship and away from the dock. She stopped suddenly and turned around to face the sea. She wove an air tunnel and directed it towards the horizon. She scanned the horizon slowly while repeating her name.
“You are early,” came a sudden reply. “Are you ready for us to come into the harbor?”
“Yes,” replied Lyra. “These people need that food.”
“Did the mayor agree?” asked the air mage aboard the ship.
“I have just arrived,” admitted Lyra. “I have not seen him yet.”
“But you want us to come in now?” questioned the mage.
“Right now,” answered Lyra. “These people can’t wait while I discuss politics. They need to eat.”
Lyra broke the connection and almost stumbled into Chargo as she turned around.
“You know magic?” asked the sailor. “Who were you talking to?”
“There is a ship waiting off the coast with food for these people,” explained Lyra. “I told them to come in and deliver it.”
“Without waiting for the politics,” Chargo smiled as he nodded. “This god of yours is strong indeed. You truly do care for all peoples. The food is on its way. Hurry to the mayor before it arrives. While you may not let politics slow the food, you still have time to grant these people a reprieve from the Katana.”
Lyra smiled at the sailor and walked swiftly away. She entered the first street leading away from the docks and soon came to a park. On the far side of the park was a large white building with a half-dozen Imperial Guards out front. She headed for it. She had expected the Imperial Guards to question her as she mounted the steps, but they merely watched her with curiosity. She entered the building. The large entry foyer had several doors leading off it and a desk at the far end. Lyra walked up to the desk.
“I would like to speak to the mayor,” Lyra announced to the man behind the desk.
“Mayor Oxley is in his office,” the man replied as he pointed to a doorway.
Lyra nodded her thanks and walked through the doorway. An old white-haired man sat behind a large desk. He looked with interest as Lyra entered the room.
“Have a seat,” offered the mayor. “It is not often that we get foreigners around here. What can I do for you?”
“How did you know that I was a foreigner?” asked Lyra as she wondered if he could possible know that she was Sakovan.
“You are not from Duran,” smiled the old man. “That makes you a foreigner.”
“Then I guess I am,” Lyra smiled. “I have come to Duran to offer your people food. I can tell by the people that I saw when entering the harbor that they need it.”
“We’ll take it,” the old man said as he sat up straight. “How much food do you have?”
“I have plenty,” replied Lyra. “Aren’t you going to ask the price?”
“Nope,” answered the mayor. “I have people starving to death in this city. If you have food, I want it. We can argue over price later.”
“Why do I get the feeling that I would never get paid later?” Lyra asked with a smile on her lips.
“Could be because you are a smart woman,” chuckled the mayor. “We will pay you a fair price for your food,” he continued in a serious manner. “The people do need it, and I would do almost anything to get it for them. How much do you have, and how much do you want for it?”
“I have a shipload,” answered Lyra, “and I want your city’s allegiance.”
“Our allegiance to what?” frowned the mayor.
“I want Duran to become part of the Sakova,” replied Lyra. “I want you to leave Omunga and switch sides.”
The mayor frowned and leaned forward as he stared at Lyra.
“Are you Sakovan?” he asked.
“I am Lyra,” she replied, “the Star of Sakova.”
“You don’t much look like a savage to me,” retorted the mayor. “You sure you are Sakovan?”
Lyra laughed and nodded. “You are too old to believe in children’s tales,” she said. “Sakovans look just like Omungans. The only difference is that we are peaceful.”
“Is there another war going on?” asked Mayor Oxley.
“I am afraid there is,” replied Lyra. “Katana Larst has soldiers invading the Sakova trying to take our land. I thought I would take some of his, but without violence.”
The old man started laughing. He laughed for several moments before he began coughing. Finally, he calmed himself.
“You are a straight talker,” he smiled. “I like that, but your price is too high. Duran has been part of Omunga since the founding. It isn’t right to just up and change because we were asked.”
“Why not?” smiled Lyra. “You really have never been part of Omunga anyway.”
“What do you mean?” asked Mayor Oxley. “Why aren’t we part of Omunga?”
“When is the last time a Katana came from Duran?” asked the Star of Sakova. “Who was the last minister from Duran?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” frowned the mayor.
“Who trains your soldiers that dress like Imperial Guards?” questioned Lyra.
“I see where you are going,” nodded the old man, “but how is Sakova any different?”
“I am bringing you food,” answered Lyra. “Has Okata sent you anything?”
“I doubt the ministers in Okata could find Duran,” frowned the mayor. “How did you get here anyway? Last I heard, Sakova had no ports.”
“I sailed from Alamar,” replied Lyra.
“Alamar?” echoed the mayor. “Did you feed them too?”
“We have been feeding most of the Omungan cities for some time,” answered Lyra. “We have never been able to get to Duran before.”
“Not unless you can jump over the Wall of Mermidion,” grinned the old man. “Is Alamar part of Sakova now?”
“No,” admitted Lyra. “I have not asked them to switch sides.”
“Why not?” questioned Mayor Oxley.
“Because Imperial Guards can march to Alamar,” answered the Star. “I thought it was too dangerous for the citizens. Duran will be the first city. Alamar may follow later.”
“You are a smart woman,” nodded the mayor. “We could switch sides and be safe in the knowledge that Okata would never strike out at us. You are still asking too high a price for your food. I suspect that you will deliver it in any event.”
“Why do you say that?” frowned Lyra.
“Your tears still show on your face,” replied the mayor. “You should have cleaned up before coming to see me. You could drive a better bargain that way. When will this food arrive?”
“It is on its way,” sighed Lyra. “I don’t understand why you won’t switch sides. Omunga has done absolutely nothing for you. Why do you remain subservient to them?”
“You are right about how Omunga has treated us,” stated the mayor, “but you should have already realized that we do not think kindly of them. Why else would I consider anyone from outside the city a foreigner?”
“So you feel no allegiance towards Okata,” frowned Lyra, “but you will still not join with me? That makes no sense.”
“Sure it does,” smiled the mayor. “I have to look after my people. That is why I am the mayor. They trust me to do what is best for them. If I sell our allegiance for a shipload of food, what will they eat next week? We will have nothing left to sell.”
“You misunderstand me,” replied Lyra. “I will not stop sending food after one shipload. If you are part of the Sakova, I will feed your people until they can once again feed themselves.”
“Now you are talking sense,” smiled the mayor as sounds of a commotion drifted through the doorway. “You will be feeding us for a long time, though. Our fields are dead.”
“I will send in mages to restore your fields,” promised Lyra. “I promise to care for the people of Duran as they have never been cared for by Okata. What more can I offer you?”
The man from the desk in the entry foyer appeared in the doorway.
“There is a mob forming outside the building,” the man said.
“Find out what they want,” replied the mayor as he dismissed the messenger.
“The food could not have arrived that quickly,” frowned Lyra. “Maybe you should check to see what the problem is.”
“In a minute,” stated the mayor. “We need to finish our bargaining first.”
“I have offered all that I am capable of,” sighed Lyra. “I will not promise you something that I cannot deliver.”
“Now that is refreshing,” grinned the mayor. “You will never make a good politician, but you have my vote as a fine leader. Your people must be proud of you.”
“They are,” Lyra said. “Is there nothing else that I can say to change your mind?”
“Nope,” the mayor shook his head. “Course, I am not sure why you would want to change my mind at this point. I am prepared to pay your price.”
“Do you mean it?” Lyra asked excitedly.
“Of course I do,” grinned the mayor. “Let’s go outside and find out what our people are screaming about.”
Lyra rose and accompanied the mayor to the front steps of the building. A great mob had formed, and they were shouting the mayor’s name loudly. One man separated from the crowd and approached Mayor Oxley.
“We heard that we can have food if we become Sakovans,” said the man. “We want the food.”
Lyra gazed out at the crowd and saw Chargo grinning at her. She shook her head and smiled at him.
“Yup,” replied the mayor. “That is what me and the Star of Sakova have just been discussing. Get wagons down to the docks to receive the food. We are Sakovans now so don’t let your Star see you moving slowly. We want her to remember Duran as Sakova’s finest port.”
The crowd cheered and scattered to tell everyone the news. The old mayor turned and winked at Lyra.
“We may be your only port,” he grinned, “but you will remember us as your best port.”