The door to the Torak quarters in the Imperial Palace burst open, and Imperial soldiers filed in with swords drawn. Botal leaped to his feet, but an Imperial soldier held a sword to his chest.
“Nobody moves,” shouted an Imperial soldier with gold trim on his uniform. “If you move, you die.”
The Torak soldiers remained unmoving as the Imperial soldiers began gathering the Torak weapons and carrying them out of the room.
“Who are you, and why are you here?” asked Squad Leader Botal
“I am Marshal Chack of the Imperial Army,” declared the soldier with gold trim. “My men are removing your weapons so that none of your men do anything foolish.”
“And why would my men disobey the orders that weapons remain in our quarters?” questioned Botal. “None of them have violated any rules so far.”
“That may be so,” shrugged the Imperial Marshal, “but your lord has. He has attempted to assassinate the Emperor.”
“That is preposterous,” frowned Botal. “Lord Marak has no reason to wish harm upon the Emperor. And even if he did, he would never act in a dishonorable fashion. You are wrong.”
“He also wouldn’t miss,” interjected Halman. “You said he attempted to kill the Emperor. The fact that the Emperor lives should be proof enough that Lord Marak is not the one that you seek.”
“Be quiet, Halman,” Botal said sharply. “Marshal Chack, I implore you to investigate this affair thoroughly before condemning Lord Marak. I know my lord well, and I will guarantee that he wishes Emperor Bagora no harm.”
“You may rest assured that my investigation will be thorough,” declared Marshal Chack as he picked up a Sakovan star from the desk, “but you may want to rethink your evaluation of Lord Marak. He was captured at the site of the attack, and Lord Woton was slain with one of these.”
“Marshal,” frowned Botal, “Lord Marak normally carries three of those stars in his waistband. When we arrived here and were told to leave our weapons, he deposited them on the desk. Last night when we returned from the evening meal, one was missing. I think somebody is trying to make it look like Lord Marak is the culprit.”
“Why was this supposed theft not reported?” asked Marshal Chack.
“A star is hardly a valuable item,” shrugged Botal. “Besides there are supposedly only two keys to this room. I had one, and Lord Marak had the other. There were no signs that anyone broke in. Who would have believed that someone entered this room only to steal an insignificant star?”
“I can give no credence to your report,” Chack said. “There is no proof to your story, and it is too convenient after you learned of the assassination.”
“Are my men to be imprisoned then?” inquired Botal.
“No,” Chack shook his head. “The removal of your weapons is for your protection. Many a soldier would be expected to do some foolish thing to free his lord. I strongly advise against it, but you are free to come and go as you please. If you wish to leave the palace, inform me and your weapons will be returned outside the building.”
Marshal Chack picked up the last star and left the suite. Botal closed the door and turned to face his men.
“I do not want any of you do anything foolish,” sighed Botal. “That goes double for you two,” he added as he stared at Halman and Gunta. “I know what your first reaction is, but we must think things out before we act.”
“It is obvious that someone has planned this well,” responded Gunta. “We will not do anything foolish, but we will not allow Lord Marak to be executed either. We need a plan to find the real culprit.”
“Agreed,” nodded Botal. “Latril, report to Fardale and seek instructions from Lord Marshal Yenga. Halman, notify the other lords who owe allegiance to Lord Marak. I want word of this to come from us before they hear of it elsewhere. Gunta, you and I need to look at our drawings. I want to know where they are keeping Lord Marak.”
* * *
Mistake ran through the crowd of the marketplace as she sought StarWind or HawkShadow. Tears flowed from her eyes, and her vision became blurry. She stopped to wipe her eyes and felt a hand touch her shoulder.
“Why are you crying?” StarWind asked softly.
“Haven’t you heard?” sobbed Mistake. “There was an assassination attempt on the Emperor.”
“We heard,” HawkShadow said from the shadow of the alley. “The news is all over the marketplace. I heard one of the members of the Lords’ Council died instead. Do you know the Emperor? Is that why you are crying?”
“No,” Mistake shook her head. “They said it was Lord Marak who tried to kill the Emperor. They have arrested him. Now everything we have worked for is ruined.”
StarWind gasped audibly and bit her lip. “This is trouble,” she said a moment later. “The lords will tear Marak limb from limb.”
“No they won’t,” HawkShadow said with determination. “I won’t give them the chance.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Mistake with a glint of hope in her eye.
“I am going to get him out of the palace,” HawkShadow said. “He has become as important to us as he is to Khadorans. I would not doubt that General Didyk is behind this.”
“How are we going to get him out?” inquired Mistake.
HawkShadow emerged from the alley and stared at the small Fakaran. “We are not going to get him out,” HawkShadow declared. “I am. This is no time to start teaching you what you need to know. You are best off pretending that you do not know us. The Imperial troops may be searching for us before the day is out. Come, StarWind, we have work to do and not much time to do it.”
Mistake scowled at the Sakovans as they hurried away. She kicked a stone in anger as she stormed about being left out of the attempt to free Lord Marak.
“So you think Sakovans are better than Fakarans,” Mistake whispered bitterly to herself. “We will see about that. Perhaps you will change your attitude when you find Lord Marak’s cell empty when you get there.”
Mistake dried her tears with a cloth and then composed herself. She forced a smile onto her face and made her way to Wendal’s stall.
“You seem happy this morning,” greeted Wendal. “I trust the Wine Press meets with your expectations.”
“Very much so,” smiled Mistake.
“So what do you have planned for today?” Wendal asked absentmindedly as he arranged the items on his table.
“I thought I would tour the Imperial Palace,” Mistake answered cheerily.
“You had better think again,” frowned Wendal. “You will not be allowed into the palace. Besides, there is disturbing news from there. Someone tried to assassinate the Emperor.”
“No,” Mistake said with feigned shock. “Why would anybody do that? I thought everybody loved the Emperor.”
“Evidently not,” shrugged Wendal as he watched Mistake for a reaction. “Some say that Lord Marak is the one who tried it.”
“Well I hope they caught him,” frowned Mistake. “There is enough killing in the world already. It certainly shouldn’t happen in a fine city like Khadoratung.”
“No it shouldn’t,” agreed Wendal. “I guess you will have to change your plans.”
“No,” Mistake shook her head. “I can’t. Rejji made such a big deal out of seeing the palace when he was here that I told him I would let him know what the inside looked like. I cannot go back in failure.”
“I am sure that he will understand,” shrugged Wendal. “He wouldn’t want you hurt or killed for trying to sneak in.”
“I was kind of hoping that you would know a way for me to get inside,” pouted Mistake.
“Me?” chuckled Wendal. “What makes you think I could get you inside?”
“You enjoy a challenge,” grinned Mistake. “Admit it. If you were in my position, would you return to Fakara without seeing the inside of the palace?”
“Probably not,” laughed Wendal. “Still the timing is not good for such a prank.”
“I will not get another chance before I leave,” pleaded Mistake. “All I have to do is pop inside and back out again. How would you do it?”
“I would make them think I belonged inside,” Wendal thought out loud. “Actually, the days of the Assembly are the best time to do it. Every clan is represented inside. The guards cannot possibly check everyone thoroughly.”
“What do they look for when you go up to the door?” asked Mistake.
“Clan colors,” answered Wendal. “Either you are a soldier or lord wearing the clan colors, or you have a pin that identifies your clan. Not all pins would get you inside, though. You would need an appropriate one and a good story to go along with it. When Rejji was here he wore such a pin that identified him as the bursar’s boy.”
“I remember him telling me that you wanted very badly to purchase it,” nodded Mistake. “Do you have any?”
Wendal hesitated just a moment too long, and Mistake knew the answer to the question. Her lips spread wide in a big grin.
“How much?” she asked.
“I don’t sell them,” protested Wendal. “I collect them.”
“Well how much to rent one?” Mistake persisted. “I won’t need it for long.”
Wendal stared at the diminutive Fakaran for a long time before answering.
He shook his head as he pulled a tray from behind his stall. “This is a stupid idea,” he warned. “I am probably aiding you in suicide. What will Rejji think of me then?”
“If I die,” laughed Mistake, “I promise that I won’t tell him.”
“You are incorrigible,” laughed Wendal as he handed Mistake a small blue and yellow pin that denoted a member of the lord’s family. “This will identify you as a member of Lord Samert’s family. He is the lord of the Vessi clan. Whatever you do, avoid any of the Vessi clan members. They will know immediately that you are a fraud. The best time to enter is just before a large group. Wait until you see such a group approaching one of the doors. Get in front of them, but do so naturally. The guards will want to dispense with you quickly so they can handle the larger group.”
Mistake hugged Wendal and dashed off before he changed his mind. She stopped in an alley to attach the pin and frowned when she looked at her clothes. Nobody would believe that she was a member of a lord’s family. Working her way around the row of inns, Mistake returned to the marketplace in a way that would keep her hidden from Wendal. She hurried through the stalls until she found the clothes she was looking for.
Mistake hurried back to her room at the Wine Press and changed into her new outfit. The corner of her mouth turned downward as she looked at herself. She wore a blue city-girl dress with a yellow belt and collar. Its short sleeves required her to leave her arm sheaths in the room. Feeling naked, Mistake raced down the stairs. The innkeeper stared at her as she dashed out the back door of the inn.
It was only a few blocks to the large park outside the Imperial Palace. Mistake halted there and watched the people coming and going. When she saw an appropriate group heading for the palace, she walked briskly to get in front of them. She marched right up to the doors and one of the soldiers stepped in front of her.
“This is the Imperial Palace,” stated the guard. “What business do you have inside?”
“I need to see my father,” scowled Mistake. “He did not give me enough gold to buy anything decent in the marketplace. You must take me to him immediately.”
“And who is your father?” asked the guard as he stared at the small pin on her dress.
“Lord Samert, of course,” Mistake said in an annoyed fashion. “Everybody knows that. You will have one of your men escort me to him immediately.”
One of the other Imperial soldiers tried to stifle his laugh, but the squad leader talking to Mistake heard it. He turned and glared at the offending guard. The guard turned his face away in embarrassment, but he could not stop laughing. Eventually, even the squad leader’s smile broadened.
“I cannot spare any men to escort you,” said the squad leader. “Go up the steps inside and around to the left. There is a long corridor with doors on both sides. You will see the Vessi name on one of them.”
“Hmmph,” spouted Mistake as the squad leader held the door open for her.
She marched inside and took a deep breath as the door closed. She could still hear the guards outside laughing.
“I wouldn’t want to end up wedding that,” laughed one of the men. “She would probably have me beat each night for dipping into my ale.”
Mistake could not stifle a chuckle of her own as she moved across the entrance foyer and up the small flight of steps. She walked swiftly to avoid spending too much time in the wide-open area, but nobody paid any attention to her. She walked down the long corridor, swiftly scanning the names on the doors. She started sweating nervously and was almost at her wit’s end when she finally saw the Torak door. Without knocking, she opened the door and stepped inside.
* * *
HawkShadow strode across the open field behind the Imperial Palace where thousands of troops were encamped. The field was ablaze with clan colors as each clan marked out an area for themselves. Some of the clans had large sections of the field roped off, while others sported nothing but a few tents and a banner in their clan colors.
HawkShadow’s eyes roved constantly in search of one of Lord Marak’s clans. Finally, he spotted the green and yellow of the Situ clan. He walked purposefully up to the tent and ducked inside. Three squad leaders were inside and one of them immediately pulled a sword.
“What are you doing in here?” demanded the man with the sword.
“My name is HawkShadow,” declared the Sakova. “I am a friend of Lord Marak’s. In case you have not heard, Lord Marak is being held prisoner inside the palace. I need your help to get him out.”
“What game are you playing?” scowled the man with the sword.
“Let him speak,” interrupted one of the other squad leaders. “I have seen this man in Fardale when Lord Rybak attended this last meeting. He is Sakovan.”
“That is correct,” nodded HawkShadow.
“We have heard about Lord Marak,” the man said as he returned his sword to its sheath, “but there is little we can do about it. We are but a single corte of troops. We cannot stand against all of the lords of Khadora. Have you seen the field outside?”
“I walked across it,” nodded HawkShadow. “I am not suggesting that we fight everyone to get him free. I plan to go in and get him out without anyone noticing.”
“You are daft,” the first squad leader shook his head. “This is the Imperial Palace that you are talking about. They won’t even let you in there.”
“I will get in,” declared HawkShadow, “but I need one of your uniforms to do it.”
“One of our uniforms?” echoed the squad leader. “Tell us what your plan is and we will go do it. We are not afraid to put our lives on the line for Lord Marak.”
“I do not doubt your sincerity and loyalty,” smiled HawkShadow. “I would gladly tell you my plan if I had one. The first part is getting StarWind and myself into the palace. Then we will find Halman and Gunta. I know both of them well. We will put our heads together and develop a plan at that point. I just need a uniform to get us inside.”
“A uniform will work for you,” frowned one of the squad leaders, “but what about the girl?”
“I can handle that part,” assured HawkShadow. “Will you help me?”
“We will,” nodded the man. “Take my spare uniform. If there is any way that we can help, be it a diversion or an attack, we stand ready.”
“I do not know where Halman and Gunta are,” offered one of the other squad leaders, “but the Situ chamber is down the leftmost corridor. It is near the rear of the palace. They will know where the Torak clan is quartered.”
“Thank you,” nodded HawkShadow as he slipped into the Situ uniform.
HawkShadow left his weapons in the tent and crossed the field to meet up with StarWind. Together they approached one of the palace doors. The Imperial guards gazed at StarWind and stopped them from entering.
“What are you doing with her?” asked the Imperial guard. “She has no pin.”
“Lord Rybak has requested her,” HawkShadow explained. “She is an interpreter of dreams. Lord Rybak had a disturbing dream last night and has demanded that she be brought to him at once. I do not question my lord’s orders.”
“You are wise not to,” nodded the guard. “Do you know the way?”
“I do,” nodded HawkShadow.
The guard opened the door, and the Sakovans passed through it. HawkShadow acted as if he was escorting StarWind. Together they made their way to the Situ quarters. They knocked on the door and entered as soon as it opened. Lord Rybak looked at the intruders with a puzzled expression.
“Sorry for the intrusion,” apologized HawkShadow. “We need to find Halman and Gunta. Borrowing one of your uniforms was the easiest way to get into the palace.”
“You are the Sakovans,” Lord Rybak said with recognition. “Why do you seek Halman and Gunta?”
“To make a plan to free Lord Marak,” StarWind answered.
“You risk your lives for Lord Marak?” questioned Lord Rybak. “It should be us fighting to free him.”
“We do not plan to fight anyone,” retorted HawkShadow. “We would like to sneak him out of the palace without disturbing anyone. Halman and Gunta know him better than any, and they both know us well. I think together we have a chance.”
“If anyone in a Situ uniform is going to rescue Lord Marak,” smiled Lord Rybak, “it will be me. I will go with you.”
“No,” HawkShadow shook his head. “I know that there are many clans who would willingly die to free Lord Marak, but it is better if we do it. If we are captured, the Imperial troops cannot tie us to any clan. I will have removed this uniform before then. If you are caught, your people will suffer needlessly. At least let us try it first. If we fail, then you can do what you think is best.”
“Very well,” agreed Lord Rybak. “The Torak quarters are right next door. I will have one of my men check the corridor before you leave.”
“But right now, I am one of your men,” chuckled HawkShadow. “I will check it myself.”
HawkShadow and StarWind slipped out of the room and knocked on the next door. The door eased open and Botal gazed at HawkShadow for a moment before recognizing him. He swiftly opened the door wider and urged them in.
“It would appear that everyone in the world has heard about Lord Marak’s capture,” frowned Botal. “What are you two doing here?”
HawkShadow stood with his mouth hanging open as he gazed at Mistake in her blue and yellow dress.
“How did you get in here?” he asked.
“What took you so long?” retorted Mistake.
“Where is he being kept?” asked StarWind as she pointedly ignored HawkShadow and Mistake.
“We have drawings,” Gunta called from the center of the room as he leaned over the table. “Come take a look.”
* * *
The Imperial soldier carried a plate of food. He opened the door to the cell area and stepped inside. A guard met him with a drawn sword.
“What is this?” the guard asked.
“Slop for the lord,” chuckled the Imperial soldier. “Would you care to sample it?”
“Hardly,” laughed the guard. “Where did you get that? I have never smelled anything so foul.”
“I suppose some of the kitchen help has taken exception to anyone who would threaten our Emperor,” replied the soldier. “I can’t say as I blame them. He is fortunate to even be able to eat. Had I been on duty, that lord would not be able to talk.”
“You must learn to control you emotions better,” laughed the soldier as he pointed down the hall to where another guard was standing. “You can’t miss him. He is our only prisoner.”
The Imperial soldier marched down the hall. The other guard nodded as he saw the food plate approaching. He unlocked the door and held it open as the soldier swept into the cell.
“I am to wait until he finishes it,” the soldier whispered as he passed through the door. “Lock it back up until I knock.”
The guard complied and closed the door and locked it. Lord Marak looked up at the intrusion and frowned.
“Fisher?” he said softly. “What are you doing here? Are you crazy?”
“Perhaps,” smiled the spy, “but sometimes crazy works. There are only two guards outside. We should be able to get you out of here fairly easy.”
“No,” Lord Marak shook his head. “You get out of here before they catch you.”
“I am not leaving without you,” Fisher said stubbornly.
“You must,” sighed Lord Marak. “Don’t you see? I cannot escape from here. Oh, you may be able to free me, but then what? Everything we have worked so long for will be destroyed. Armies will descend upon the estates of the Torak clan. They will turn over every rock to find me, and they will crush anyone who gets in their way. Whoever set me up, did a very good job. I imagine that they want me to escape. Doesn’t it surprise you that there are only two guards for a prisoner that supposedly attempted to assassinate the Emperor? It is not like there is a shortage of Imperial troops.”
“You have a point there,” conceded Fisher, “but leaving you here is the same as watching you die. I cannot chance the loss of the Torak.”
“All the more reason for you to flee, Fisher,” Lord Marak shook his head. “I am not dead yet. I cannot imagine the Imperial troops hanging me without a thorough investigation. That means that my people still have a chance to do something. Get in touch with Botal. Tell them to find out who the real assassin is. This is an area that you excel at, Fisher. Work with the Emperor’s people. As much as they hate me, and all that I stand for, they will still want to know who the real assassin is. You have your work cut out for you. Go do it.”
“I will,” nodded Fisher, “but I will not let them kill you. If need be, I will lead all of your people on Khadoratung and fight to save you.”
“You will do no such thing,” scolded Lord Marak. “In fact, I want word sent to Fardale immediately. None of my people are to make any moves against the Imperial troops or the Emperor. That is not what I am about. I want to unite this country, not destroy it.”
“But they are flatlanders,” frowned Fisher.
“Gather the believers and the nonbelievers,” quoted Lord Marak. “Remember the scrolls that we have read. These people may seem like our enemies now, but a greater evil is coming. We must unite to survive. Go now.”
Fisher banged harshly on the door. The guard opened it and Fisher stormed out.
“Lock him back up,” snarled Fisher. “He refused to eat his slop so he will go hungry.”
Both guards laughed as Fisher left the cell area. He placed the tray on the floor outside one of the clan quarters and continued on until he reached the Torak quarters. He banged on the door, and Botal shook his head as he let Fisher in.
“Who will be coming next?” Botal shook his head as he closed the door. “Perhaps a Chula would complete this cast.”
“Fisher!” greeted StarWind. “Nice uniform. That may help us get Lord Marak out of here.”
“It won’t help at all,” Fisher snapped as he stripped off the uniform. “I just came from Lord Marak’s cell. He refuses to escape.”
“What?” HawkShadow said with disbelief.
“It makes sense after you calm down a little,” sighed Fisher. “Whoever is framing him, wants him to escape. There are only two guards, and I easily got into his cell.”
“Why would they want him to escape?” asked Mistake.
“Nothing could destroy what he is doing more than branding him and his people as criminals,” explained Fisher. “He wants us to solve the mystery of who really is behind the assassination.”
“Well that’s easy,” StarWind quipped sarcastically.
Suddenly, a loud explosion rent the air. The whole palace shook, and dust filtered down from the ceilings.