“He is not a deity,” explained King Avalar, “but he speaks to one. The Torak is an ancient name, and it stands for one who serves God, but he is not alone in this endeavor. The Star of Sakova and the Astor, who you call King Rejji, are partners. They are the Three that serve Kaltara. To serve one is to serve them all.”
Harmagan turned and stared at Rejji as if he had never seen him before.
“Is this true?” asked Harmagan. “Do you speak with God?”
“It is true,” nodded the Astor.
“Now I understand,” smiled Harmagan. “That is why Marak could ride the dragon as well as you, isn’t it?”
“Myka was an ancient creature of Kaltara’s will,” replied Rejji, “and yes, that is why she allowed him to ride upon her.”
“It all begins to make sense now,” the Jiadin leader nodded thoughtfully. “There is only one other question that has been bothering me.”
“And what is that?” asked Rejji.
“I saw the elves riding large cats across the battlefield,” Harmagan asked, “but I have not been able to find them in the forest. Where do you keep them?”
“You do not have to fear the cats,” Ukaro smiled, his eyes shining with humor and his mane swaying in laughter. “They will not harm you.”
“That is good to know,” Niger said nervously, “but just in case, where are they?”
“Around,” purred Ukaro. “They are all around us.”
Lyra suddenly stood and stared into the forest. Everyone noticed and followed her gaze to see Emperor Marak walking in from the plains. Lyra eased her way out of the crowd and went to greet him.
“I was wondering where he had gone,” commented Harmagan. “I must talk to him.”
Scarab’s hand shot out and rested on Harmagan’s chest.
“Not right now,” the Khadoran spy said softly. “Let him talk with Lyra. I will introduce you to him later.”
Harmagan looked at Scarab bewildered, but he nodded as he began to understand that there was something special between the Torak and the Star of Sakova.
Marak halted just inside the line of trees and let Lyra come to him. She walked up to him and silently embraced him. For several long moments, neither of them spoke. Finally, Marak kissed Lyra and held her in front of him at arm’s length.
“For two people supposedly guided by God,” Marak said softly, “we are not doing too well.”
“What do you mean?” asked Lyra.
“Did you try magic on the skeletons?” he asked.
“We were told that only a strike to the neck would kill them,” frowned Lyra. “Didn’t that come from you?”
“Not from me,” Marak shook his head. “I did not try magic on the ride from the lake because I thought you would be using it if it worked. I swung my sword like everyone else.”
“So I failed again?” Lyra sniffed, feeling rebuked at the very moment that she wanted to just hug Marak and feel the life inside him. “I was in a hurry to save your life.”
“I am not chastising you, Lyra,” smiled Marak. “I made a more serious error than you. All that I am trying to say is that we must not let the words of others determine our actions. You let the words of some swordsmen endanger your people. Kaltara chose us because we have the skills necessary to complete this task. We must slow down and think about how we are to use those skills before we act.”
“You might have drowned,” protested Lyra. “Or even worse, the skeletons could have gotten you. We had to move quickly. You don’t seem to be very grateful for our actions.”
“I am very grateful,” sighed Marak, “but you are taking my words the wrong way.”
“I have never seen you this negative before, Marak,” frowned Lyra. “I have never seen this side of you, and I don’t like it. Just what is bothering you? Is it Myka’s death? We have all lost loved ones in these wars. It is fine to grieve, but you are well past that point. You are downright bitter.”
“I suppose I am,” Marak said softly as his eyes dropped towards the ground.
“You said that you also made a serious error,” Lyra continued. “Is that what is bothering you?”
“I guess so,” nodded Marak. “So many have died because of my actions today. It is easy to point out how you rushed into battle without a plan and relied on anonymous words pertaining to tactics, but the fact is that I did exactly the same, except I did it worse.”
“What do you mean?” questioned the Star of Sakova.
“I should not have been on Myka today,” stated the Torak, “but I had to rush to find out what was going on. Once there, I did nothing to help the dragon. In fact, I was a burden to her. I realized that after the first battle ended, which is why I jumped off.”
“You jumped off?” Lyra echoed in surprise.
“I jumped off,” Marak repeated. “She was over the lake, and I thought my odds of surviving were very good. I knew she could not fight two demons with me on her back, and she would never endanger my life to survive. I did what I thought was the smartest thing to do. I jumped in the lake.”
“I understand,” Lyra said consolingly.
“No, you don’t,” Marak shook his head. “Jumping did not save her life, and it endangered thousands of others as they had to come and rescue me.”
“You had no choice,” soothed Lyra as she began to appreciate the torment that Marak was putting himself through. He was blaming himself for the dragon’s death as well as the deaths of all those who perished to rescue him.
“But I did,” retorted the Torak. “I should have stayed and fought with her.”
“Myka told us that our magic was useless,” Lyra pointed out, “and striking out with a blade would cause the demons no harm. You could not have helped her.”
“I think you are wrong,” countered Marak. “Kaltara has given us everything we need to succeed in this battle. I could have helped her.”
“Now you are being unreasonable,” scowled Lyra. “You are just trying to blame yourself for her death. How could you have helped?”
“You were told that the skeletons could only be killed by a strike to the neck,” explained Marak. “Is that correct? Was anyone able to kill one in any other manner?”
“Not that I know of,” answered Lyra. “We did not try magic, but the instructions we received appeared to be valid. What are you getting at?”
“I killed quite a few on the ride back from the lake,” answered Marak, “and not all of them were strikes to the neck.”
“Are you sure?“ questioned Lyra. “How is that possible?”
Marak removed his hands from Lyra’s shoulders and drew his sword. He held it between them, its blade upright pointing towards the sky.
“The Sword of Torak,” declared Marak. “It is a gift from Kaltara, and as I said, he has given us everything we need to succeed.”
“It can kill the skeletons?” gasped Lyra.
“Easily,” nodded Marak, “and if I was to guess, I do believe the cuts that it could deliver to a demon would bleed quite well.”
“Merciful Kaltara!” exclaimed the Star of Sakova. “Now I understand why you are berating yourself, but wouldn’t Myka have known this?”
“I don’t think so,” Marak shook his head. “In her previous battles with demons, there was no Torak. The only way she could know is if Kaltara told her, and He has not even told us. He has given us what we need, but the battle is ours to figure out.”
“Alright,” Lyra nodded. “Your point is well taken. Now that we know what we are up against, we can plan our attack, but you must let go of the past.”
“I can’t,” frowned the Torak.
“You must,” Lyra said adamantly. “We have both made mistakes, but there are many people depending upon us. Let’s sit down with Rejji and Fisher and see what we can come up with.”
“Fisher?” inquired Marak. “He is here?”
“He is called Scarab,” grinned Lyra. “The Jiadin leader is actually claiming that Scarab is his little brother. I don’t know how he does it, but he has been inside the temple.”