When Lord Marak finished his conversation with his spy, Fisher, he left his office and headed for the office of Lord Marshal Yenga. He was only half-way there when Kasa intercepted him.
“Klora received a message from Mistake,” Kasa informed the lord.
“What is the message?” asked Lord Marak.
“Mistake is in Raven’s Point,” answered the bursar. “She arrived on one of your ships this morning. She wants to come here, to Fardale, to see you.”
“Did she indicate any problems in her message?” questioned Lord Marak.
“None,” Kasa shook her head.
“I wonder what the Fakaran is doing here,” murmured Lord Marak. “Have Klora send a message to Raven’s Point to lend whatever assistance Mistake needs, be it a horse, food, traveling instructions, or an escort. She is to be treated as a foreign lord friendly to the Torak clan.”
“I will see to it right away,” nodded Kasa.
“Not so fast, Kasa,” smiled Lord Marak. “What would you say our financial condition is?”
“It is excellent,” beamed the bursar. “We have more money than we need.”
“Good,” grinned Lord Marak. “I want you to notify the lords of a decision that I have made. You can tell them before they leave to their own estates.”
“Certainly,” agreed Kasa. “What will you have me tell them?”
“Tell them to raise their prices by ten percent,” Lord Marak replied.
“Ten percent?” echoed the bursar. “On everything?”
“Everything,” nodded Lord Marak.
“Our sales will plummet,” frowned Kasa. “Just because we are in a strong financial situation at the moment, does not mean that it will last forever. I implore you to reconsider. We will not be able to sell everything at those inflated prices.”
“I think we will,” retorted Lord Marak. “At the Assembly of Lords, I plan to announce a twenty percent discount to any estate that has no slaves. Wait. Make that any clan that has no slaves. Some of these Khadorans would strip a small estate of slaves just to use it to purchase things cheaper.”
“You will get no buyers,” frowned the bursar. “The other clans will steal your business.”
“Perhaps,” shrugged Lord Marak, “but I think not. We will be raising the prices today, and the meeting in Khadoratung is not for two weeks yet. I am willing to wager that a fair amount of clans will take the opportunity to raise their own prices in response. When they do, our discount will be rather tempting, and we will really only be losing twelve percent, which we can afford.”
“And if the other clans do not take the bait?” questioned Kasa. “Will you then rescind your price increase and look the fool for doing it?”
“No,” stated Lord Marak. “The Ksaly Company will purchase all of our excesses and resell them at whatever prices it needs to. Plus, we have the Omungan market and Fakara to take excess goods from us. We will not lose any money.”
“Using the Ksaly Company, which we set up to outwit Tachora, will certainly save us from ruin,” nodded Kasa, “and I admit that your dabbling in ships has paid off handsomely. Still you risk much and for what reason? The clans will not get rid of their slaves.”
“Won’t they?” countered Lord Marak. “What use do the clans have for slaves? Won’t Master Malafar’s idea of a magic school fill that need?”
“It actually might,” brightened Kasa, “especially since our mages will be well trained and theirs will not be. Still, you risk much if you plan on making that a speech in Khadoratung. You will sound like you are trying to force their hands.”
“I am forcing their hands,” admitted Lord Marak. “I might as well tell them up front. You had better hurry to catch the lords before they leave.”
“I will,” promised Kasa. “You should spend some time with Lyra and her party before this day is out. She has come a long way to see you, and you have not been around.”
“Right after I visit with the Lord Marshal,” promised Lord Marak.
Kasa moved swiftly to carry out Lord Marak’s orders. Marak entered Yenga’s suite and sat across the desk from the Lord Marshal.
“How did the meeting go?” asked the Lord Marshal.
“It went well,” answered Lord Marak. “Fisher is leaning towards Lord Quavry as our spy. I agree with him, but I must be sure before I act. We must act soon as well. If Lord Quavry is the spy, I want him replaced before the Assembly of Lords. Still, I cannot figure out how Lord Quavry would know when our caravans leave. Is that information ever sent via air tunnels to the mages we have stationed at the other estates?”
“Certainly not,” Yenga shook his head vigorously. I would never permit such information to be given out. The mages we have on the other estates are there to provide us with information, not the other way around. I seriously doubt that any of the other estates are even aware that the people we posted there are mages.”
“What about Marshal Patoga?” inquired Lord Marak. “Is he loyal to me or Lord Quavry?”
“Without a doubt,” declared Yenga, “he is loyal to you. Patoga is above suspicion.”
“Good,” nodded Lord Marak. “Arrange a meeting with him and explain our problem. Perhaps he can enlighten us on how Lord Quavry could receive notice of our shipping dates.”
“I can hazard a guess right now,” stated Lord Marshal Yenga. “We have a dozen Sorgans here in Fardale on any given day. We are training their people in every discipline. We provide housing for them here, but most have families back in Watula Valley, so they go back and forth. It would be fairly simple for Lord Quavry to find out what is happening here.”
“Contact our mage at Watula Valley,” instructed Lord Marak. “She is to use her air tunnels to spy on Lord Quavry. I want to know how he is getting the information.”
“If it is him that is the spy,” interjected Yenga.
“Yes,” agreed Lord Marak. “If it is.”
“What do you plan to do to make sure?” questioned the Lord Marshal.
“I will have his warning intercepted,” explained Lord Marak. “Once we are certain Lord Quavry is the spy, he will be replaced.”
“What about the person he is sending the information to?” asked Yenga.
“That is where the two cortes that we are sending out in Ragatha uniforms come in,” smiled Lord Marak. “As soon as they are clear of Fardale, I want them to move directly to the site of the last ambush. I want them to be very familiar with the area, and I want them to prepare a reception for the next set of gray warriors.”
“Ambush the ambushers?” Lord Marshal Yenga asked as his left eyebrow rose.
“Exactly,” replied Lord Marak. “Impress upon them that I want at least one survivor of the bandits to give us the information we need. I want the next caravan squad to be outfitted with Qubari armor, in case we are unsuccessful in eliminating the bandits.”
“Good idea,” agreed Yenga. “What do we do when we find out what clan is attacking us?”
“I do not know yet,” admitted Lord Marak. “Let’s take this one step at a time. The timing of this will be important. It will take me a good week to get to the capital, so the next caravan must leave in a few days. I want Lord Quavry to have time to get the message off before he leaves.”
“You are risking an awful lot on this spy being Lord Quavry,” frowned the Lord Marshal. “What if you are wrong?”
“If I am wrong,” answered Lord Marak, “we will still have two cortes ready to attack the ambushers. We will also have the squad guarding the caravan protected by Qubari armor. The only thing I lose is the chance to capture the real spy. I suspect that you will work on that during my absence.”
“You can count on it,” declared Yenga. “We will find the spy no matter who he is. How many men will you be taking to the capital with you?”
“I hadn’t really thought about it,” Marak confessed. “I suppose a squad would be sufficient.”
“A squad?” echoed the Lord Marshal. “A squad cannot guard our caravans. I certainly expect to send more men to guard my lord.”
“What is normal?” asked Lord Marak.
“Normal is relative,” sighed Yenga. “Some estates send only a squad, while others send four to five cortes. The more powerful lords like to parade their troops through the capital streets, as if that will impress the citizenry. Of course it is really to make a statement to the other lords. It says that the lord can afford to send an army to the capital and not worry about a neighbor taking over his estate in his absence. Every action in Khadoratung has significance.”
“What message am I supposed to be sending then?” asked Lord Marak.
“I am not sure,” frowned the Lord Marshal. “I was hoping that you would not attend the Assembly of Lords. Khadoratung can be more dangerous than the center of any battlefield.”
“Where are the escorting troops housed in the capital?” inquired Lord Marak.
“They may be kept in the lord’s suite in the palace if there is enough room,” answered Yenga, “or on the grounds outside. The more powerful the lord, the larger the suite afforded him. Your suite, Lord Marak, will be very small. While you control a good deal of the frontier in this corner of Khadora, you will be considered insignificant in the capital. All of the power of Khadora emanates from the Imperial Valley. It has always been so.”
“How small a suite?” questioned Lord Marak.
“A squad would be hard pressed to make themselves comfortable,” sighed Yenga. “Remember that there is room outside for a larger force. Besides, no weapons will be allowed outside your suite in any event. I think you should take several cortes. Our enemies will be surprised by the armies of your other clans should they take the opportunity to attack Fardale. We will be safe here.”
“I do not want my troops in a holding area outside the Imperial Palace,” Lord Marak shook his head. “Besides, that is not the impression that I wish to make this trip. I will compromise with you. I will take two cortes and a squad. The squad will stay with me in the Imperial Palace. The two cortes will camp within a day’s ride from the capital. If there is trouble, they will be able to respond. If there is no trouble, you can be assured that I had a proper escort.”
“I know better than to argue with you,” Yenga shook his head. “I will stipulate that two air mages go with you, one with the squad, and one with the two cortes. If help is to be a day away, I want them to be able to communicate with each other.”
“Done,” Marak grinned as he rose from his chair. “If you need me for the rest of today, I will be entertaining our Sakovan friends.”
Lord Marak left the office and exited the mansion. His black and silver cape blew gently in the wind as he strode over to the sparring yard. He immediately saw StormSong in the yard with a Fardale opponent. He smiled inwardly as he watched the tall Sakovan women battle the burly local man. StormSong was the most able female fighter that Lord Marak had ever met, and she enjoyed a good spar like few other people could. Lord Marak was drawn to the rail fence surrounding the practice yard. He leaned on the fence as he watched StormSong’s perfectly executed maneuvers. Her opponent was withering under her constant blows.
Lord Marak watched for several minutes before he realized that there were no other Sakovans watching the match. He frowned as he stood erect and looked around for the Sakovans. He finally spotted them under a tree a fair distance away. His forehead creased as he watched the animated conversation. Something was wrong.
Lord Marak strode swiftly towards the Sakovans. Their conversation ceased when they noticed Lord Marak approaching.
“I apologize,” Lord Marak opened. “I have been a poor host to the Sakovans. I hope you will forgive me.”
“Nonsense,” smiled Lyra, the Star of Sakova. “The Sakovans have been warmly welcomed in Fardale. Your people are to be commended for their friendliness and warmth.”
“Yet I have been unavailable much of the time,” sighed the Torak lord.
“As was I when you visited StarCity,” laughed Lyra. “I seem to remember keeping you waiting for three days when you arrived.”
“You were ill,” protested Lord Marak. “Besides, it gave me time to explore your wonderful city.”
“And busy as you have been,” retorted Lyra. “I understand the competing needs that are thrust upon you, Marak. There is no need to apologize. You have also given me time to explore Fardale and the surrounding areas. I must compliment you on the health of your choka herd. They are thriving wonderfully. That was a pleasant surprise.”
“You have seen the herd?” Marak asked questioningly. “But…”
“But they are tended by the Chula,” grinned Lyra. “Yes, I know. Fisher escorted me there yesterday. You forget that the Sakovans and the Chula have been allies for centuries. I could not leave Khadora without visiting with them.”
“I should have known,” smiled Lord Marak. “I was up there myself yesterday. You should have let me know.”
“Tmundo said you were not to be disturbed,” the Star replied.
Lord Marak merely nodded as he examined the other Sakovans in the group. “May I speak to you privately?” he asked.
Lyra nodded and the other Sakovans drifted several dozen paces away.
“Your father was found in the mage practice field today,” Lord Marak said. “Did you tell him about it?”
“Of course not,” answered Lyra. “None of my people know of its existence, as you requested. The time I spent there was easily covered up. Do you not trust my people, Lord Marak?”
“On this particular topic,” Lord Marak frowned and shrugged, “I do not trust my own people. The Mage Corps will revolutionize battle here in Khadora. The longer I can keep it secret, the better the hopes of my people. I hope you understand.”
“I do,” sighed Lyra after a moment of hesitation. “It does not surprise me that Malafar found out. He can sense magic fairly easily. The Mage Corps is not something you could hide from him. I would not doubt that several of my people already know about it.”
“Are you aware that he is not returning to StarCity with you?” asked Marak.
“I am,” Lyra nodded sadly. “I believe that was his plan since we left Sakova. He feels that he must start a new life away from Omunga and Sakova. I disagree, but perhaps it is for the best. He has made a shambles of his life, and the battle in Okata nearly killed him. Maybe isolation is just what he needs to find himself again.”
“I just wanted to make sure that you knew,” Marak said. “I will see that he has anything he wants for his journey.” Marak paused. “I could not help noticing the conversation you were having when I approached. Is there a problem?”
Lyra motioned for the rest of the Sakovans to return before she said, “There is a problem that we just found out about. Explain it to him, StarWind.”
“We just heard that General Didyk is leaving Omunga,” reported the head Sakovan spy. “Such a high ranking officer has never visited Khadora in all of our history. We are concerned that it may represent another plot against the Sakovans.”
“An Omungan general coming here?” questioned Lord Marak. “That is unheard of. How do you know this?”
“The air tunnel you taught us,” grinned Lyra. “We have been using it to keep in touch with StarCity.”
“I guess you did learn it well,” smiled Lord Marak. “I am going to the capital in a week or so. Perhaps I can try to find out who he is meeting with.”
“That was the conversation that you interrupted,” responded Lyra. “StarWind and HawkShadow want to travel with you to Khadoratung. We have been debating the saneness of such a trip.”
“StarWind has experience in the cities of Omunga,” interjected HawkShadow. “I am sure that she will be unnoticed in Khadoratung.”
“And HawkShadow is unnoticed in any environment that he wishes not to be seen in,” added StarWind. “We can find out what General Didyk is up to far better than the Khadorans can.”
“What about your escort back to StarCity?” Lord Marak asked the Star of Sakova.
“StormSong and SkyDancer will be sufficient,” shrugged Lyra. “We have chokas just on the other side of the mountains. Once we reach them, no one will catch us, and the Chula will see us safely that far.”
“Then I have no problems with letting StarWind and HawkShadow accompany me to Khadoratung,” Marak declared. “Only your safety is an issue.”
“Then it is settled,” grinned StarWind.
“It is,” conceded Lyra. “Keep in touch with StarCity. There may be other developments that you will find helpful.”
“Have the Omungans selected a new Katana?” questioned Lord Marak.
“Not yet,” answered StarWind. “We suspect that Larst will be chosen. As First Minister, he has the edge over everyone else. Still, he has demanded that the selection not be rushed, as it was the last time. Every town and village has been asked for their input. I suppose that General Didyk is not happy with the choice, as Larst favors peaceful relations between Omunga and the Sakovans.”
“Which is why we must find out why the general is in Khadora,” added HawkShadow.”
“Do either of you know how to use an air tunnel?” inquired Lord Marak.
“Yes,” answered StarWind. “We use it daily to keep in touch with StarCity.”
“Then I see no problems with your plan,” declared the Torak lord. “We will be leaving here in about a week. We will travel with two cortes of Torak troops to within a day’s ride of Khadoratung. After that, we will only have one squad as an escort. Shall I have Torak uniforms issued to you?”
“Is it unusual for citizens to ride with soldiers on the road?” asked HawkShadow.
“It is done often,” replied Marak. “Travelers will seek the protection of a squad on the roads. As long as the squad is not on an urgent mission, it is usually acceptable.”
“Than I would prefer traveling that way,” HawkShadow responded. “It will allow us a freer hand and not bring any suspicion upon the Torak clan if anyone questions our activities.”
* * *
Zygor and Brakas entered through the gates of the Vessi estate. The Marshal of the Vessi clan met them in front of the mansion.
“Is Lord Samert available?” asked Brakas.
“He is,” nodded Marshal Ednardo. “Follow me.”
Zygor and Brakas followed the marshal into the mansion. They were seated in the meeting room, and the marshal left. Moments later, he returned with Lord Samert.
“I heard there was trouble in Fakara?” greeted the lord of the Vessi clan. “Rumors say that Grulak is dead.”
“Grulak is dead,” Brakas replied. “The free tribes are causing unforeseen problems.”
“I fail to see that as my problem,” shrugged the lord. “It would appear that Grulak’s grand plans died with him.”
“Grulak’s plans may have died,” smirked Brakas, “but have yours?”
“What do you mean?” questioned the lord.
“Only a fool would believe that you were prepared to assist Grulak out of compassion,” snarled Brakas. “You were helping him so that you could increase your holdings in Khadora and profit from the plunder of your neighbors. Has that desire fled you upon the news of Grulak’s death?”
“Are you proposing yourself as a replacement for Grulak?” inquired Lord Samert. “I heard that the Jiadin were scattered over all of Fakara.”
“They are,” shrugged Brakas. “Do you really need a hundred thousand men to expand your influence? Most estates in Khadora have armies of five hundred men. You need but a fraction of the Jiadin to expand beyond your wildest dreams.”
“Be careful what you imagine my dreams to be,” retorted Lord Samert. “What are you proposing?”
Brakas gazed at the marshal as he spoke, “How many men would you need to crush your neighbors?”
“Our army is strong,” the marshal replied after a moment of hesitation “Still, we could use a few hundred good men. Are you proposing to supply us with mercenaries?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Brakas replied. “Although I suppose that I think on a grander scale than you do. I can supply you with five thousand warriors.”
“Five thousand?” gasped Lord Samert. “We could never afford them.”
“But you can,” Brakas replied swiftly. “They will cost you nothing.”
“Nothing?” echoed the marshal with unconcealed suspicion. “What is your game?”
“My men will only take a share of the spoils,” Brakas smiled innocently. “With five thousand men, you can expand well beyond your borders. Khadora is a rich country, and Fakara is very poor. A small share of Khadoran spoils will appear as a king’s ransom in Fakara. Thus, my men will actually cost you nothing.”
“There is merit to this plan,” mused Lord Samert. “With five thousand men, only the largest of clans would dare oppose us, and we can be careful not to give them cause to intercede.”
“Why the Vessi clan?” questioned Marshal Ednardo. “Why have you chosen to present this offer to us?”
“Actually,” smiled Brakas, “I am offering it to each of Grulak’s allies. The Glamaraldi and the Lejune will have similar offers.”
“So you will be sending fifteen thousand men into Khadora to bring home spoils to you?” asked the lord.
“Precisely,” nodded Brakas. “I will get a small portion of each man’s take. When you are through with my men, we will have enough to found a new Fakara, and you will be powerful lords of Khadora. Everybody wins with this plan.”
“Except those we destroy,” smirked Lord Samert.
“And destroy them we must,” warned Marshal Ednardo. “The families of the controlling lords must be annihilated completely. There can be nobody left to file a grievance with the Lords’ Council. If no grievance is filed, then it remains a private affair between two clans.”
“Then some clans will have to cease to exist,” grinned Lord Samert. “There will be a problem if anyone notices Jiadin in our ranks though.”
“They will not be identifiable as Jiadin,” declared Brakas. “You are to make up Vessi uniforms for all five thousand of them. That is the safest way to proceed.”
“I agree,” nodded the marshal. “They will be Vessi soldiers and they will take commands from me. You will have no control over these men, Brakas. Is that understood?”
“Completely,” smiled Brakas. “I do not even wish to visit them. They are yours until you no longer need them, as long as I get what is due me from the spoils.”
“So it shall be,” Lord Samert decided as he rose. “When can we expect these men?”
“I will start sending them tomorrow,” answered Brakas. “You had best order uniforms to be made quickly.”
Marshal Ednardo escorted the two Fakarans out of the mansion and watched them leave the estate. Brakas grinned broadly as soon as they were off the Vessi lands.
“That was easy,” laughed Brakas. “I hope the other two clans are as easy.”
“They will be,” remarked Zygor. “You did well in there, Brakas. How those fools think they can control five thousand of our men is beyond me, but you were correct in your analysis. Their greed blinds them to the danger. Are you sure that our men will respond when the signal is given?”
“To a man,” Brakas nodded vigorously. “There is no love of Khadorans among our men. When we choose to take over the host clans, it will be easily accomplished.”
“Excellent,” smirked Zygor. “Let us put these other two clans in order so that I may search out my new host. We will accomplish more with twenty thousand men than Grulak had hoped for with his hundred thousand.”