“Where are the surviving Motangans?” Marak asked as they flew over the road. “I cannot see them.”
“There are still battles raging in the trees,” replied Myka, “of course I would not expect a human’s eyes to see what I can see. The rats have cleared off the road for now. It is a pity. I was looking forward to another run along the road.”
“Can you see any problem areas?” asked the Torak.
Myka did not answer promptly. She flew the entire length of the road and turned over the berm for another run. When she reached the southern end of the road, she turned again and spoke.
“The battle is won,” the dragon declared. “The Motangans are seeking to flee rather than fight.”
“And there is nowhere for them to run,” nodded Emperor Marak. “Praise Kaltara for this victory.”
“And what comes next?” asked the winged warrior.
“Fakara and Vand,” replied Marak. “I wonder how things are going there?”
* * *
“There is a wide pass through the mountains,” Bakhai said to Premer Cardijja. “We will pass through it tomorrow.”
“And what is on the other side?” asked the premer.
“A wide plain,” answered Bakhai. “On the other side of the plain is a jungle.”
“And that is where Angragar is located?” asked General Luggar.
“I do not know,” frowned Bakhai. “I do not even know if Angragar really exists, but that is where I was traveling when the evil spirit began chasing me. She must be protecting something.”
“I agree,” smiled Premer Cardijja. “There was a fork in the road not long ago. Where does the northern fork lead to?”
“To the Valley of Bones,” Bakhai answered without hesitation. “It is a large valley protected by four great peaks. It is said that ancient armies used it as a fortress.”
“That might be where the free tribes are hiding,” General Luggar commented with excitement. “Perhaps we should go there instead.”
“The free tribes are not there,” Bakhai replied quickly.
“How do you know?” the general frowned with skepticism.
“Everyone knows,” shrugged Bakhai. “The free tribes are far to the south. Their homes are along the Taggot River.”
“Show me on the map,” ordered Premer Cardijja.
Bakhai walked over to the map and stared at it for a moment. He appeared to be confused by the strange symbols, but he finally pointed at the large peninsula that occupied southeast Fakara.
“The Taggot River runs down the center,” Bakhai said softly. “It starts in the center of the Giaming Mountains and empties into the sea. That is where the free tribes live.”
The premer smiled broadly and nodded in appreciation of the knowledge. He cast a smug glance at General Luggar.
“So which way do we go?” asked the general. “Do we search this jungle for Angragar? Or do we alter course and march on the free tribes?”
“The distance to the free tribes is great,” mused the premer. “I think our priority should be to find Angragar. The Fakarans will remain trapped on the peninsula. We can choose our time to turn southward and trap them between our armies and the sea. I have suddenly begun to feel very optimistic about this campaign.”
General Luggar glanced at Bakhai and frowned. Premer Cardijja noticed the glance and shook his head.
“Go outside and play, Bakhai,” the premer said in a friendly manner. “I will call for you if we need to talk more.”
Bakhai smiled and nodded. He moved eagerly to the tent flap and let himself out. Premer Cardijja shook his head once more and turned his gaze upon General Luggar.
“You still do not trust the lad?” he asked.
“I do not trust any Fakaran,” shrugged the general. “It is one thing to ask questions of the captive, but quite another to reveal your thoughts to him.”
“His information has been accurate in every regard,” the premer defended Bakhai. “We could never have progressed so far without his help. We would still be blindly searching for a pass through the mountains.”
“The roads were easy enough to spot,” retorted the general. “I am sure that our scouts would have found them.”
“We were too far north to find this pass,” countered the premer. “I will grant you that we might have found the Valley of Bones, but we would probably have missed the jungle that lies ahead. I wonder if the jungle is large enough to conceal the lost city?”
“It is probably similar to the jungles on Motanga,” offered General Luggar. “It is most likely a small strip along the coast.”
“Is it?” questioned the premer. “Bakhai says that we will reach the jungle in two days, yet we cannot be close to the coast. I am imagining a much larger jungle than on the Island of Darkness.”
“Perhaps,” shrugged General Luggar. “What did you make of his description of the Valley of Bones?”
“The name is strange,” mused the premer, “but it is worth checking out. Should the free tribes move northward, we could use it as a place to defend. I do not care to be caught on the plain with horsemen charging my position. I saw what the Fakaran horsemen are capable of in such a situation. It cost me fifty thousand men.”
“Yet we are heading for a plain tomorrow,” cautioned the general.
“It must be crossed to get to the jungle,” retorted the premer. “We will only spend two days at most upon it. Once we gain the safety of the jungle, the Fakaran horsemen will lose their advantage.”
“Then you were wise to order an early halt to today’s march,” noted the general. “The men should be well rested in case there is trouble in the next two days.”
“You worry too much,” replied the premer. “I am feeling very good about things right now. Go and get some rest yourself, Luggar. Tomorrow we will tread on uncharted Fakaran land.”
Bakhai heard the general preparing to leave the tent. He quickly dropped his air tunnel and picked up a stick. He started drawing in the dirt as the general left the premer’s tent. Luggar hardly glanced at the lad as he headed for his own tent. Bakhai smiled inwardly and rose from the ground. He walked through the large camp towards the east and settled on the ground not far from the sentries manning the perimeter.
Over the past few days, the Fakaran lad had become a familiar sight to the sentries. They even nodded to him in a friendly manner when he arrived each evening. Bakhai stretched out on the ground facing east and appeared to be resting and watching the sentries. After his daily arrival, the sentries paid no attention to him. Bakhai wove an air tunnel to a position one league to the east. He spoke softly, his voice no more than a whisper to himself.
“I told them that the free tribes are far to the south along the Taggot River,” reported Bakhai. “I also said that the Valley of Bones was uninhabited and would make a good defensive position.”
“Any reactions to your information?” asked the Qubari shaman.
“There was a discussion on searching for Angragar or heading south to battle the free tribes,” answered Bakhai. “The premer has decided to pursue the location of Angragar.”
“Well done,” replied the shaman. “Be forewarned,” he continued. “The Motangans will be attacked tomorrow. Perhaps you should escape during the night. Do you need a diversion, or can you escape on your own?”
“I cannot leave,” replied Bakhai. “If I fled tonight, General Luggar would suspect an attack tomorrow. He is still suspicious of me.”
“He will be more than suspicious after the attack,” warned the shaman. “You must flee.”
“No,” Bakhai said adamantly after a long pause. “There is more that I can do to affect the outcome of tomorrow’s battle.”
“What can you possibly do, brother of the Astor?” asked the shaman. “Flee while it is safe to do so. Tomorrow night your life will most certainly be forfeit.”