Island of Darkness (25 page)

“You always have the finest foods available,” he commented. “How do you do it?”

“The rich are not affected by the crop failures,” shrugged Cherri. “In fact, the wealthy are never affected by anything. You should know that.”

“I have never considered myself wealthy,” frowned the general. “Being Minister of Defense does pay well, but certainly not enough to become rich.”

A puzzled look fell over Cherri’s face as she digested the general’s words. While the salary of a minister would not make anyone wealthy, the inside information gleaned from the meetings of the Katana’s Council certainly should. Obviously the general did not act on the information he received from the meetings.

“All of the other ministers are rich,” noted Cherri. “How do they do it?”

“I have never thought much about it,” confessed the general. “How did you previous husband become wealthy?”

“I made him wealthy,” grinned Cherri.

“How did you do it?” inquired General Kapla.

“I made him tell me everything that went on in the Katana’s Council,” explained Cherri. “I used that information to make shrewd investments.”

“But that is treasonous,” retorted the general. “What goes on in a meeting of the Katana’s Council is supposed to be kept a secret.”

“It was not treasonous,” balked Cherri. “How do you think the other ministers became wealthy? They have people make investments for them based on their inside knowledge. It is one of the benefits for them sacrificing their time to rule the country. There is absolutely nothing wrong with it. It is not like they were telling the enemy what went on in the meetings.”

“I guess not,” shrugged the general after a moment’s pause. “I just never looked at it that way before. You are very intelligent to have picked up on that.”

“Calix thought so, too,” grinned Cherri as the servants brought in bowls of wasooki soup. “I made him a very wealthy man. I could make you a wealthy man, too.”

“You could?” the general asked with renewed interest. “I will admit that I have never spent much time thinking about money, but your ability to have fine foods during this crisis is very tempting.”

“And you are doing your best to serve our country,” nodded Cherri. “Why shouldn’t you benefit from the fruits of your labor?”

“How would you do it?” asked the general. “How could you turn the information from the council into profits?”

“Well it depends,” Cherri replied. “Do you remember the burning watula fields near Campanil when Alazar was the Katana?”

“I do,” nodded the general. “Food prices shot up very high then, although not as high as they are now.”

“At that time I would have had you purchase large quantities of watula before the news broke,” explained Cherri. “We could have sold the watula a week later and doubled your money.”

“Amazing,” remarked General Kapla, “but where would we have stored it all?”

“We would have never even seen the watula,” chuckled Cherri. “I would buy it and request delivery be held for a week. When we sold it, we let the new buyer receive it.”

“And you can do such things?” inquired the Minister of Defense.

“I do it all the time,” smiled Cherri. “I like gold very much. Having a lot of it makes me very happy.”

“Then we shall try it,” smiled the general. “I will come here after the next meeting of the Katana’s Council, and we will see if you can find a way to profit from what was discussed.”

“That is wonderful,” smiled Cherri. “It will make me happy to make you a lot of money.”

The servants brought in a whole roasted clova garnished with onions and green beans. The overweight general stared at the cart as the servants rolled it into the room. He closed his eyes in delight and smelled the flavor as the cart rolled by him.

“This is going to be sumptuous,” he commented. “I can almost taste it now.”

“I met some of the wives of the other ministers today,” Cherri said casually as the servants served the food. “They said that many people felt that Larst was not himself since becoming the Katana.”

“I have heard the same,” nodded the general as he placed a piece of clova into his mouth.

Cherri waited patiently as the general chewed his food. She knew the dinner could be a hard setting in which to interrogate someone, as their mind tends to wander to various topics. She was skilled, however, in bringing them back to the topic that she wanted to discuss.

“This is absolutely wonderful,” remarked the general. “I could not imagine such splendor on a plate. Your cooks are to be congratulated.”

“I am sure that they will be pleased to hear of your compliments,” smiled Cherri. “Larst attends the council meetings as the Katana. Do you think he has changed?”

“He has,” nodded the general as he cut another piece of clova. “Especially where the Sakovans are concerned. He was the biggest proponent of peace with the Sakovans when we were searching for the Katana. Now he stands almost alone in forcing war against them. I cannot imagine what set him off on such a rampage.”

“It is a shame,” responded Cherri as the general bit into another piece of clova. “It seems like this war is on, and then it is off, and then it is on again. It makes the people think that their leaders don’t know what they are doing. It is hard for people to have confidence in such leaders.”

“The people have no say in this matter,” declared the general. “Even the Katana’s Council has no say. Larst will permit no discussion of it other than accepting plans for the defeat of the savages.”

“What are the current plans?” Cherri asked innocently. “I heard that General Romero’s army had to retreat from Alamar.”

“He did,” nodded the general, “but not because of the Sakovans. In Alamar the disease is spreading to the people. His scouts saw thousands of graves and huge fires for burning the dead. He could not move his army into such an area. He has been recalled to Okata.”

“So the war is off then?” questioned the Sakovan spy.

“Oh, no,” General Kapla shook his head. “His armies will be rested from their travels while General Valdey’s army invades the Sakova from the west. There is already an advance group of over a thousand men deep into the Sakova. There has been no resistance at all.”

“The Sakova is a large place,” mused Cherri. “Maybe the scouts are looking in the wrong places?”

“It is large,” conceded the general, “but we will find StarCity. We will comb every league of the Sakova until we find it. It will just take some time.”

“But I thought the idea was supposed to be a quick victory to get their food supply?” questioned Cherri. “If it takes too long to find StarCity, won’t the troops go hungry?”

General Kapla’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the beautiful woman across the table from him. “You mustn’t say such things in public,” he warned. “The food supplies are getting very low. In another month, we will not be able to feed the troops. The Katana has sent the mayor of Gatong over the mountains into Khadora to try to buy food. If he is successful, Khadoran food will flow down the entire coast. That will allow us to take our time searching for the Sakovan food supplies.”

“Clever,” smiled Cherri. “What ever gave him that idea?”

“General Didyk proposed it to me,” the general said boastfully, “and I recommended it to the Katana. General Didyk has befriended one of the members of the Lords’ Council of Khadora. He foresaw that we would need Khadoran help in wiping out the Sakovans.”

“How fortunate for Omunga to have had such foresight from their generals,” Cherri said dryly. “Do you think that the Katana is possessed by a magician?”

“Possessed?” echoed the Minister of Defense. “Where did you hear such nonsense?”

“Nonsense?” retorted Cherri. “Surely you know that there are magicians capable of such deeds? I heard about it years ago.”

“You have heard of such things?” the general asked with concern as he pondered the implications to Omunga if the thought were true.

“I have,” Cherri nodded forcefully. “It is a dark art, but who else would seek to ruin a country except a dark mage bent on power?”

“Do you think Larst is trying to ruin the country?” questioned General Kapla.

“I can’t say for sure,” shrugged Cherri, “but if this war with the Sakovans does not go as planned, Omunga may well cease to exist. Remember, General, Omunga has been trying to conquer the Sakovans for a thousand years. They have not succeeded yet.”

“I seem to have lost my appetite,” frowned the general as he pushed his plate away from himself. “The end of Omunga is a most distressing subject.”

“I do not mean to distress,” brightened Cherri. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Like what?” asked the general.

“How about gold?” grinned Cherri. “It has always been my favorite topic.”

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.”