“Free to kill the Katana,” informed Goral. “The wound in your back was from Alazar as well, but he only cast it after the Katana was dead. If you had not blinded everybody, he would have been the hero for killing you.”
Malafar leaped to his feet and started pacing furiously. Could the giant be right? He could be lying. He is Sakovan after all, but why would he? What would he gain by divulging such nonsense and passing it off as truth? And how would the Sakovans know about such a drug if they didn’t use it themselves? What game were they playing with him?
“How do you know Quetara was used on me? He asked the giant.
“We didn’t,” admitted Goral. “It was Fisher who noticed the symptoms. It leaves the skin with a yellow hue and the subject does things that are out of character, such as a mage who has vowed never to use offensive magic using it to kill someone.”
“Fisher is one of you isn’t he?” Malafar asked trying to clear the confusion about whether the Sakovans knew or not.
“No,” replied Goral. “He is Khadoran. He just happened to be talking to us when they shut down the city. We could not leave him to fend for himself so we took him with us to SunChaser’s house where we found out about you.”
“A Khadoran,” mused Malafar. “It makes sense they would know about such things. Why in the world would the Sakovans be talking to a Khadoran?”
“That is hardly relevant to what we are talking about,” sighed Goral as he questioned how much he should be saying. He had already divulged more than he should have, but he did not want Lyra’s father going back into Okata. “The short answer is that Fisher believes that Alazar plans to attack Khadora after he wipes out the Sakovans. He came down here seeking information that would confirm it.”
“I agree,” sighed Malafar. “We do not need to muddy the waters further by bringing Khadora into this. So you are saying that Alazar drugged me and used me to kill the Katana so that he could become the ruler of Omunga?”
“Yes,” confirmed the Sakovan giant. “The Katana is shielded from magical attacks, but your powers are so strong that you were capable of breaching them. Alazar could not do it without you, or someone like you, which is why he also was hunting for your brother, Temiker.”
Temiker thought Malafar. He hadn’t spoken to his brother in years because of Alfred, but was that right. Alfred was killed by Temiker’s student when he was a Monitor, but Alazar said that was a fabrication he made up. He also said Alfred was a Sakovan spy and killed by the Katana, or was it a Sakovan assassin? He was confused. Did Alazar say all three things? His son could not have been killed by Temiker’s student and the Katana, so one of the stories was a lie. Which one? Either he wrongfully shunned his brother for years, or he wrongfully killed the Katana. Either way he had been wrong.
“Was Alfred a spy or an assassin?” he asked Goral.
“He was a spy and a Monitor,” Goral answered. “Alfred did not see a conflict between the two. He could live to serve the Katana, who he never expected to harm Sakova. You should ask StarWind about his beliefs.”
“StarWind?” scowled Malafar. “She wouldn’t give me the right phase of the moon. Why should I ask her anything?”
Goral stood and started to leave the clearing, but Malafar raced after him and grabbed his arm. “Goral,” he insisted. “Stop making me plead for information. Alfred was my son, my dearest possession, my greatest accomplishment. Why do you refuse to tell me about him?”
Goral turned and stared down at the old mage for a moment. “She was to be your daughter,” Goral said sadly. “Alfred and StarWind were to be wed. Do not hurt her with this information, wizard. I like you, but I would do anything to keep StarWind from pain. You are correct that you have a right to know, but that right does not include hurting her. I have said too much already and I think it is time for us to be on our way.”
Master Malafar stood with his mouth hanging open as the giant left the clearing to return to the other Sakovans. He had never even known that Alfred had noticed women, yet he had planned to marry and not spoken of it. Why? He should have been elated and bursting to tell someone.
Malafar suddenly beat his closed fist against his thigh. Should have been elated. He surely was, but he couldn’t tell his father because the woman he loved was a dreaded Sakovan. Rhodella must have known. Alfred would have told her. And Temiker as well. Everyone but him because of his diatribes about Sakovans. Darn! Could he really have been such a fool all of his life? Could the Sakovans really be blameless for all of the things he was taught? He could never have accepted that thought before, but everyone he knew and loved appears to have sided with the Sakovans. It was time he found out for himself. He had promised Goral that he would go see Lyra and he would, but he would also find out what the Sakovans really were like while he was at it.
He picked up the female costume he had discarded and strode off to join the others. They were all waiting silently for him and he wordlessly walked through the group and mounted his horse.
***
StormSong returned to the campfire panting from exertion and sat down with the others assembled there.
“Where is Lord Marak?” HawkShadow questioned. “You didn’t kill him did you?”
StormSong shook her head and everyone waited until she caught her breath. “No,” she stated, “he is off to the stream for a quick dip. “I think I will take one too before we turn in.”
“Who won?” asked MistyTrail.
“It was not a contest of winning or losing,” StormSong explained. “Sparring with a good opponent is the best way to sharpen your skills. I do think that he is holding back though,” she admitted. “I have never fought anyone with such skill and I intend to learn every one of his tricks before we are done.”
HawkShadow stared at StormSong with his eyes wide and his mouth open. He had never seen anyone who could match StormSong’s skills with a sword nor had he ever thought he would hear her say that such a person existed. “Are you feeling all right?” he asked sarcastically.
“Yes,” StormSong exhaled deeply. “Pretending that I am better than him does not make it so, HawkShadow. I do not believe in fooling myself so. If I did, I would fear practicing with him and that would deprive me of the chance to better my skills.”
“I didn’t think you could get any better than you already are,” MistyTrail complimented seriously.
“A warrior can always better his skills,” offered Gunta, “and StormSong is right about an honest evaluation of one’s own skills. Only a fool places pride above truth.”
“I agree,” added Halman, “and StormSong has provided Lord Marak with more of a challenge than any one person ever has that I know of. He usually spars against four or five of us, if he can find those willing to take the bruises. StormSong has come out of the spars intact and that speaks highly of her skills. The Sakovans are blessed to have such a warrior as her.”
“Thank you,” nodded StormSong. “How did Lord Marak get to be a Lord so young?” she asked. “Was his father a Lord?”
“No,” answered Gunta. “Marak was a soldier for Lord Ridak, a good soldier. Lord Ridak chose him to be Lord of Fardale because they needed someone who was expendable. There were some grave misdoings at the estate and the next Lord would most likely have been hung to appease the offended parties. Marak did not know that he was being sacrificed at the time and he did the best job that he could. He managed to turn the estate around and fulfil his contracts.”
“Yes so they had to try to kill him another way,” scowled Halman. “They never really meant for him to be Lord of Fardale and they wanted the estate back.”
“They lost,” grinned Gunta. “Lord Marak formed his own clan and beat the armies of four others to stay alive.”
“Wow he must be lucky,” MistyTrail said.
“Luck had nothing to do with it,” insisted Halman. “Lord Marak’s skills and his treatment of his subjects won the day. He treats his people as they have never been treated before. They would gladly die for Lord Marak rather than fail at what they do. The other armies do not fight with the same conviction.”