Lord Marak reentered the Imperial Palace after Fisher had walked away. He did not bother to return to the Torak quarters, but instead walked straight to the Assembly Chamber. He sat at his desk in the rear of the room and wove an air tunnel to take his mind off of the events of the morning. He was amazed to hear lords talking about the capture and death of Andretti. There was no mention of the assassin being a member of the Argetta clan, but everyone seemed to be aware that the assassin of Emperor Bagora had been caught. Several also spoke of the recent attack on Lord Marak.
“I heard that you captured the assassin this morning,” greeted Lord Shamino as he sat at the next desk. “Your luck seems to be blessed by the gods.”
“There is only one god,” Lord Marak replied without taking his attention away from the air tunnel, “and I do not believe in luck. How has word of this spread so quickly?”
“I imagine that anything this big is news to everyone,” shrugged the Sorgan lord. “There is a rumor that the assassin was an Imperial soldier. Is that true?”
“He wore the uniform of one,” confirmed Lord Marak, “but it takes more than a uniform to make someone a true Imperial soldier. Those men have dedicated their lives to Khadora and put their clans behind them. I hope the truth about Andretti will not sully their reputation.”
The horns sounded and the lords hurried to their seats. Emperor Mirakotto was ushered onto the stage by a score of Imperial soldiers.
“Lords of Khadora,” Emperor Mirakotto began, “thank you for assembling this day to elect a new member to the Lords’ Council. As you already know, this vacancy was necessitated by my rise to Emperor upon Bagora’s death. May it be the last time that you are called together for a while. I know the journey is upsetting for the business of your estates. I will turn this meeting over to Lord Patel who will be leading this session of the Assembly of Lords.”
“No mention of the assassin,” whispered Lord Shamino.
“I noticed that,” Lord Marak remarked as he saw the Emperor glaring at him from the throne on the stage. “I wonder if he is afraid of what I might have found out from Andretti.”
“What?” asked Lord Shamino.
Lord Marak ignored the question as Lord Patel stepped to the center of the stage.
“The only purpose of this meeting of the Assembly of Lords,” Lord Patel began, “is to elect a new member to the Lords’ Council. At this time, I will accept nominations from the assembly.”
Lord Kiamesh rose and was recognized.
“Lords of Khadora,” Lord Kiamesh said loudly, “the loss of Emperor Bagora will be felt in every corner of Khadora. He was a wonderful leader, a magnanimous lord, and a loving father. I can think of no better tribute to such a great patriot of Khadora than to nominate his son, Lord Chenowith of the Walkan clan, to the position of a member of the Lords’ Council. It is my hope that Lord Chenowith will one day follow in his father’s footsteps and become Emperor of Khadora.”
The room erupted in a flow of cheers. The shouts of backing for Lord Chenowith were so great that Emperor Mirakotto broke his eye contact with Lord Marak to gaze about the room. Lord Marak could almost feel the disgust that the Emperor felt towards the other lords’ adulation of Lord Chenowith. He knew that Mirakotto was envious of the attention that was paid to others.
Lord Patel waited until the room quieted before he asked for other nominations. There were none. He moved quickly to call for a vote without objections. Being in the rear of the room, Lord Marak was among the last to vote. Many lords had already cast their vote and left the room after doing so. Lord Marak rose after voting and walked into the grand foyer outside the Assembly Chamber. Groups of lords were scattered all over the wide-open area.
As Lord Marak walked out of the room, several of his lords immediately converged on him. Lord Rybak of the Situ, Lord Sevrin of the Ragatha, Lord Burdine of the Litari, and Lord Shamino of the Sorgan all gathered around him.
“Is it true, Lord Marak?” asked Lord Rybak. “Did you capture the assassin?”
“I had help,” admitted Lord Marak, “but there is no doubt that he is the man who killed Bagora.”
“They said you shoved a knife into his throat,” commented Lord Sevrin.
“Whoever is spreading these tales was not there to see it,” responded Lord Marak. “Do not encourage such tales. Who captured him and how it was done is not important. What is important is that Andretti will no longer pose a danger to the good people of Khadora.”
“I also heard that the Lords’ Council turned down your request for troops,” interjected Lord Burdine. “What does this mean for our troops on the eastern frontier?”
“It certainly will make their job much harder,” frowned Lord Marak, “if not impossible. If all of the Jiadin converge together, our forces are doomed.”
“Perhaps we should recall them?” suggested Lord Shamino.
“To what end?” asked Lord Marak. “If we abandon the Balomar estate, who will ever stand with us in the future? It might be better to gather all of our forces together and send them to the eastern frontier.”
“Do you mean to strip away the defenses of our own estates?” asked Lord Sevrin. “That would be suicide. There are far too many clans that would eagerly take advantage of us. You must not do that, Lord Marak.”
Lord Marak felt the hair rising on the back of his neck. He turned swiftly, but casually and gazed at a group of four lords not twenty paces away. The four lords were staring at him. Lord Marak left his group and strode towards the four lords.
“So you decided to come after all, Lord Yungis,” opened Lord Marak.
“Why not?” smirked the Glamaraldi lord. “For all your talk about the Lords’ Council coming down against me, I understand that they refused your request for more troops.”
“That leaves you rather alone, Lord Marak,” said Lord Damirath of the Pikata clan.
Lord Marak turned to face Lord Damirath and felt a chill race down his spine. The man’s eyes were black and limitless.
“Whatever you are after in Khadora, Lord Damirath,” declared Lord Marak, “you will not achieve it. I advise you to return to wherever it is you came from.”
Lord Marak was not sure where his words had come from, but they felt natural, unlike Lord Damirath. The Torak lord wished he had the Sword of Torak with him. He felt certain that its hilt would warm his hand as he stood before Lord Damirath.
“What are you talking about?” blustered Lord Samert of the Vessi clan. “Lord Damirath is the lord of the Pikata. They are an old and established Khadoran clan, unlike the Torak. How dare you suggest he leave this country of ours?”
“Perhaps it is you, Lord Marak, who does not belong in Khadora,” added Lord Falawert of the Lejune clan.
Lord Marak locked eyes with Lord Damirath as he spoke, “The Jiadin failed to take control in Fakara. They will also fail in Khadora. It does not matter what uniforms you put on the Jiadin, they will always be known for what they are. If Zygor and Brakas have led you to believe otherwise, then the truth is going to wound you fatally.”
Lord Marak saw the spark of recognition in Lord Damirath’s eyes at the mention of Brakas and Zygor. He was not sure how those two fit in, but he was sure that eliminating them would end the Jiadin invasion.
“Your words mean little, Lord Marak,” snarled Lord Yungis. “I was generous with Lord Oktar when I allowed him two days to leave. I now extend the same courtesy to you and the foolish clans that follow your lead. Remove your men from the Balamor estate or die. There will not be another warning.”
“You should listen and obey, Torak,” smirked Lord Damirath. “You cannot win. Surely, you recognize that now. The Time of Cleansing is soon upon us. Run, Torak, run.”
Being called Torak set Marak’s nerves on edge. Mention of the Time of Cleansing convinced Lord Marak that he was not dealing with a Khadoran lord. Again he gazed into the depthless eyes of Lord Damirath. What was it that Mistake had said? Zygor and Brakas arrived, but Zygor had not been seen leaving. That was it. Was it possible for a mage to take another’s body? He promised himself that he would contact the Chula as soon as could to get an answer to that question. Or should he just bluff and see what happened?
“I am surprised that you would welcome the Time of Cleansing, Zygor,” smiled Lord Marak. “That is the time of your master’s true death.”
The three Khadoran lords looked on in confusion as Lord Damirath stepped back and snarled at Lord Marak.
“That will never happen, Torak,” spat Lord Damirath. “Not in a thousand years. I think you should ignore the warning of Lord Yungis. I personally look forward to seeing you die at Balomar.”
Lord Damirath spun and strode away from the confrontation. The other three hosts to the Jiadin quickly followed after a few strange looks at Lord Marak.
Lord Marak was shaken by the encounter with Zygor. If his opponents actually had the capability of taking over the body of another person, what other great powers could they possibly have? Lord Marak suddenly realized how woefully unprepared Khadora was for the invasion that was to come. Just uniting the clans of Khadora would not be enough to prepare for the evil onslaught. Lord Marak shook his head and headed for the Lords’ Council dining room for the midday meal.
When he arrived, Lord Marak’s mind was still dwelling upon the encounter with Zygor. He barely noticed the other lords assembled for the meal.
“So Lord Marak has single-handedly captured the assassin of the Imperial Palace,” taunted Lord Garic. “Was he about to betray you, Lord Marak?”
Lord Marak spun and glared at Lord Garic. “I think your master is calling you, Garic. You had better leave immediately.”
Lord Garic was taken aback by Lord Marak’s abrupt challenge. He looked around at the other lords and saw no humor in their faces. He rose unsteadily and left the room. When he was gone, Lord Marak shook his head and sighed.
“I apologize to all of you for that outburst,” he said. “The events of the day are bearing down on me. Please forgive me.”
“For scaring Garic out of the room?” chuckled Lord Kiamesh. “No apologies are necessary, Lord Marak. Sit and ease your troubles.”
Lord Marak nodded gratefully at Lord Kiamesh and then noticed that Lord Chenowith was present.
“Lord Chenowith,” smiled Lord Marak, “congratulations on your election. I also want to offer my condolences in regards to your father. Emperor Bagora was a true patriot. He will be sorely missed.”
“Thank you, Lord Marak,” Lord Chenowith replied without emotion. “I do have a question about Andretti if you would not mind answering it.”
“There is not much that I can say about it,” shrugged Lord Marak.
“We shall see,” continued Lord Chenowith. “I cannot figure out why an Imperial soldier would want to kill an Emperor. Did Andretti give you any idea of why he killed my father?”
Lord Marak stared at the table in front of him for several moments. He sighed heavily and looked up at Lord Chenowith.
“He was an assassin,” declared Lord Marak. “He did what assassins do.”
“You mean he was just following orders?” questioned Lord Chenowith.
“Yes,” Lord Marak nodded.
“And do you know who was giving him orders?” Lord Chenowith persisted.
“I do,” nodded Lord Marak, “but I prefer not to broach the subject. There is already too much disharmony among us. Your loss is great Lord Chenowith, but losing you as well would be a grievous loss for Khadora. I ask you not to pursue the matter.”
“Not to pursue the matter?” Lord Chenowith echoed as his voice rose. “Andretti killed my father, Lord Marak. If you know who ordered that assassination, I demand to know.”
“And what will you do with the information, Lord Chenowith?” questioned Lord Marak. “Will you press the authorities to arrest the man based upon my word alone? What if that man is more respected than me? What will you do then? I do not mean to be harsh, Lord Chenowith. If I saw a way that you could avenge your father’s death, I would gladly tell you what I know, but I will not burden you with information that will destroy you.”
“Mirakotto,” Lord Kiamesh swore under his breath. “I thought it had to be him, but you have just confirmed it, Lord Marak. There is no other man who could stand up to the Lords’ Council if we were united, and united we would be in this matter. Mercy, what are we to do?”
“We can do nothing,” Lord Quilo replied. “Lord Marak is right in not revealing what he knows. Any action we took would be as serious a crime against Khadora as that perpetrated by Andretti. Surely you can see that, Lord Chenowith?”
“Two wrongs do not make a right,” nodded Lord Chenowith. “Still, a fire burns in my belly as I think of the treachery that has been committed here. Tell me, Lord Marak, what would you do if you were in my position?”
Lord Marak sat for a while before answering. He tried to put himself in Lord Chenowith’s place.
“My first reaction would be as yours is,” answered Lord Marak. “I would demand swift revenge, regardless of the consequences to myself, but I never act on emotions alone. There are things going on today that are far more important than revenge for a treacherous act. Khadora is heading into a storm of a magnitude like we have never seen. Whatever I can do to help Khadora prepare to meet this evil is far more important than my life. It is more important than the lives of all of my loved ones. My revenge would tear this country apart at the very time that I need to help bring it together. I could not allow myself to harm Khadora that way for my own selfish goals.”
“You think these Jiadin invasions are that much of a threat to Khadora?” inquired Lord Chenowith.
“No,” Lord Marak shook his head. “The invasions are only the beginning. They are meant to bring chaos to Khadora so that our armies will not be able to respond to the real threat.”
“And what is this real threat?” asked Lord Chenowith.
“I do not know for sure,” frowned Lord Marak. “I know it is an evil that we are incapable of imagining. I know this sounds crazy, but given enough time I could show you what I mean. There are ancient prophecies that have predicted the battles that we will have to endure. The prophecies explain the signs of the times, and those signs are now showing up.”
“What kind of signs?” asked Lord Kiamesh.
“Grulak was one of the signs,” answered Lord Marak. “Since the founding of Khadora and Omunga, the people have been forbidden to marry the indigenous peoples of the land. These prohibitions were put in place to protect us from a failed magic. The prophecies spoke of a Time of Calling. It means that someone would intermarry with the indigenous peoples and ancient memories would be restored. Those memories would call the evil to this land. Grulak was a half-breed. His mother was Qubari.”
“Magic is nonsense,” scowled Lord Quilo. “You cannot shape the future of a country on ancient prophecies and magic.”
“Can’t you?” retorted Lord Marak. “The magic that you call nonsense blasted a hole in the prison where I was kept. I have spoken to Fakarans who described the mage that ruled over Grulak. The man was not human as you and I define the term. He was a magical being. When he died, his body ceased to exist. There was nothing left but his clothes. How would your armies battle that, Lord Quilo?”
“If it is true,” shrugged Lord Quilo. “Are you so quick to accept the word of a Fakaran?”
“I have seen similar beings myself,” answered Lord Marak. “I know there is doubt in your minds, but I am not trying to push my views upon you on this matter. I ask only that you keep an open mind. I will find a way to prove my words to you in the future.”
“But you are trying to press your ideas in dealing with the Jiadin,” responded Lord Chenowith. “I understand you came before the Lords’ Council yesterday in an appeal for troops to aid the Balomar.”
“Quite true,” nodded Lord Marak. “Troops are desperately needed out there. I had a brief talk just moments ago with the four lords of the eastern frontier who have Jiadin warriors. I am sure that they will combine their forces now. That is twenty thousand Jiadin that will be attacking Lord Oktar. Emperor Mirakotto has forbidden the council to come to my aid even though there is provocation.”
“You have troops out there now?” asked Lord Chenowith.
“I do,” conceded Lord Marak.
“What other clans have troops out there?” pushed Lord Chenowith. “And do not try to avoid the question, Lord Marak.”
Lord Marak frowned as he stared at Lord Chenowith. He had never met Bagora’s son before, but he was getting the feeling that Chenowith didn’t care for him much. Still, there was little point in hiding the clans that were out there. With the coming casualties, everyone would know soon anyways.
“There are six clans represented out there besides the Balomar,” answered Lord Marak. “The Torak, Sorgan, Litari, Situ, Ragatha, and Nordon clans have soldiers ready to fight.”
“The Nordon?” questioned Lord Quilo as he looked expectantly at Lord Patel.
“Why are you men out there, Lord Patel?” asked Lord Chenowith.
“They are needed,” answered Lord Patel. “I have contributed two cortes from each of my estates, as did each of the other clans.”
“Why did you commit troops out there in the first place?” asked Lord Chenowith
“Because Lord Marak asked me to,” Lord Patel sighed in frustration. “Just where are you going with all of these questions. I do not probe into your clan dealings.”
“Just one more question,” Lord Chenowith said as he stared into Lord Patel’s eyes. “If Lord Marak never existed, would your troops be out there today?”
“Yes,” Lord Patel shook his head. “I mean no. Let me explain. If Lord Marak had not requested my troops, I would never have been wise enough to know that they were needed, but knowing the situation as I do now, then yes, I would have sent my troops. The Jiadin must be stopped at all costs. I know that is hard to see as we sit in the safety of the Imperial Valley, but this safety is an illusion. The Jiadin will grow and grow as they eat up more clans. It is much better to stop them now while they are only twenty thousand strong.”
“Only twenty thousand?” echoed Lord Quilo. “That is over three hundred cortes. There is no army in Khadora that is anywhere near that size.”
“I really must insist an end to this questioning, Lord Chenowith,” stated Lord Marak. “Satisfying your curiosity is not worth the risk that my people might have to endure.”
“Oh this is about more than just my curiosity, Lord Marak,” countered Lord Chenowith. “There is a matter of legalities here. I understand that you assured the Lords’ Council that you had a legal right to be on the Balomar estate. What is Lord Patel’s legal right to be there? Or Lord Sevrin’s? Or any of the others?”
“What does it matter now?” retorted Lord Marak. “The Emperor has refused my request to the Lords’ Council. The men at the Balomar estate will die in the coming week. Does it really matter to you if they were there legally?”
“It does,” insisted Lord Chenowith. “It matters a great deal. Tell us how you can legally claim to be at the Balomar estate and have all of these other clans there with you.”
“I will not,” Lord Marak shook his head. “Ask me after next week and perhaps I will tell you.”
“So you plan to return to the Balomar estate yourself?” asked Lord Chenowith.
“I do,” nodded Lord Marak. “I would never ask my people to do something that I fear to do myself. I will be there with them.”
“All the more reason to tell us now then,” insisted Lord Chenowith. “Seeing as you won’t be around later to tell us.”
“I will say nothing more, Lord Chenowith,” declared Lord Marak. “I have indulged your curiosity to a fault. I do not wish to be rude, but it is not in my interests to speak more of this.”
“I have done something that I am very ashamed of, Lord Marak,” the Walkan lord said. “My father, Emperor Bagora, was a student of history. As such, he saved every scrap of paper that passed through his hands. He also kept a daily journal of both his meetings and his private thoughts. He would periodically send those papers home in a locked box. In the despair that followed my father’s death, I dared to open the last box he sent home. I know he would chastise me for it if he were alive today, but he is not.”
“Please don’t take this further, Lord Chenowith,” pleaded Lord Marak. “My meetings with your father were quite private.”
Lord Quilo and Lord Kiamesh sat on the edges of their chairs, their eyes glued to Lord Chenowith with anticipation.
“I must, Lord Marak,” Lord Chenowith continued. “I spent the entire night reading his journal. You are mentioned many times in it. In fact, as the night wore on, I became quite bitter that my father thought more of you than he did of me.”
“That is not fair,” protested Lord Marak. “I am sure that your father loved you dearly. Do not think poorly of him based upon some sporadic writings.”
“I do not think poorly of him, Lord Marak,” countered Lord Chenowith. “My father was the greatest man I have ever known. The point is, I know the reason that your presence out there is considered legal. I think the rest of the lords here have a right to know as well. They have the right to know whom they are dealing with. The question is, are you going to tell them, or am I?”
“I can only ask you not to,” sighed Lord Marak as he shook his head. “If you read your father’s words, then you understand why I have done what I have done. It is not for my own glory that I have acted, but rather the security of our country.”
“Tell us already,” interrupted Lord Quilo. “What secret dealings are going on?”
“Very well,” shrugged Lord Chenowith. “Lord Oktar swore Vows of Service to Lord Marak so that the Torak lord would be able to station troops on his estate.”
“Vows of Service to another lord?” questioned Lord Kiamesh. “How can that work?”
“It works quite well actually,” declared Lord Chenowith. “Lord Marak learned this trick early in his career as a lord. You see, all of the other clans out there also gave Vows of Service to Lord Marak.”
“Even the Nordon?” gasped Lord Kiamesh. “Is this true, Lord Patel?”
“It is true,” nodded Lord Patel.
“Why?” asked Lord Kiamesh.
“Each of the clans attacked Lord Marak,” explained Lord Chenowith, “and each of them lost. Now Lord Marak thinks this is something to be hidden. He thinks that some lords will find fault with his method of solving disputes. Instead of conquering his foes and crushing their armies, Lord Marak negotiates them into surrender and then assumes a patriarchal role over them. That is the reason for the serenity and prosperity of the southern frontier.”
“That is remarkable,” Lord Quilo said in surprise. “That is why the Situ no longer threaten the Morgar, and the Litari no longer speak ill of the Ragatha. Amazing, simply amazing.”
“What an ingenious way to solve difficulties,” nodded Lord Kiamesh. “Tell me, Lord Patel, how does it work?”
“Quite well actually,” Lord Patel said. “I was quite opposed to the idea at first, as you can imagine, but until now, I have found it enlightening.”
“Why until now?” asked Lord Chenowith.
“Your exposing our arrangements will have consequences, Lord Chenowith,” sighed Lord Marak. “There are some powerful lords who will use this information to my detriment.”
“Perhaps,” nodded Lord Chenowith, “but none of them are in this room.”
“Are you saying that you are willing to keep these arrangements secret?” asked Lord Patel.
“I am,” nodded Lord Chenowith. “I am sorry to put you through this, Lord Marak, but you are asking these lords to put armies under your control. Is it not reasonable that they should know the truth about you?”
“The arrangements have been secret to protect those who have sworn to me more than anything else,” replied Lord Marak. “The hardest part of swearing to another lord is the embarrassment of having lost control of your clan, although those who have sworn to me know that this is not the case. I exercise very little control over the clans. Pride is one of the greatest problems this country faces. It makes it almost impossible for us to unite.”
“Besides,” Lord Patel interjected, “you are not being asked to send troops. The Emperor will not allow it.”
“The night my father died,” Lord Chenowith said, “we talked extensively about this problem on the frontier. We discussed many things, but I finally asked him what he would do to solve the problem. His answer confused me greatly. I had no understanding of his words until I later read his journal.”
“What did he say he would do?” asked Lord Quilo.
“He said he would swear Vows of Service to Lord Marak and march his armies onto the Balomar estate,” declared Lord Chenowith. “That is what I am prepared to do, Lord Marak. I will have thirty cortes ready to depart in the morning.”
“You can’t be serious?” gasped Lord Kiamesh.
“There is no reason for the vows at this point, Lord Chenowith,” smiled Lord Marak. “A provocation has occurred. Your vows are no longer needed to move your troops. The law is with us even if the Emperor is not.”
“You may count on my armies as well, Lord Marak,” declared Lord Quilo. “You not only won the heart of Emperor Bagora, but my son as well. I respect Katzu more than I respect myself. You have just shown your true intent by rejecting vows from Lord Chenowith. I was merely waiting for some sign that your ambitions were truly for the good of Khadora and not yourself. You have provided that proof as Katzu knew you would.”
“Lord Kiamesh?” Lord Patel prompted with a grin on his face.
“You know me well enough, Patel,” smiled Lord Kiamesh. “As long as I do not have to offer vows to Lord Marak, there is little for me to think about. My armies will march for the good of Khadora. I, too, will offer up thirty cortes. I will endeavor to get them ready as soon as possible. Our combined armies will be as the heart of Khadora. We shall pump strength into those areas that need it.”
“We will still be badly outnumbered,” smiled Lord Chenowith, “but no longer are the Jiadin guaranteed victory. Let us show the rest of the country what the future of Khadora looks like. We shall be a nation where clans can work together to help one another.”