The Kamaril officer rolled on the floor and screamed in agony. People outside the meeting room banged loudly on the door and shouted with alarm. Aakuta glared at Lord Druck from the safety of his black hood, and the lord seethed with rage.
“Shut up!” Lord Druck shouted at the wounded officer. “I will pay your price, fiend, but you will never find another contract in all of Khadora.”
“That suits me well,” snarled Aakuta.
Lord Druck hastily wrote a script for one hundred thousand gold and placed his seal upon it. He hand the paper to the dark mage.
“Are you going to heal my officer before you leave?” he asked.
“Do you wish to enter into a new contract?” snickered Aakuta.
“Never!” swore Lord Druck. “Get out of here before I change my mind.”
Aakuta put the script into his pouch and turned to face the door. He extended his arm and waved his fingers towards the door. Suddenly, voluminous billows of smoke rose from the door as it began to glow brightly. The pounding and shouting beyond the door ceased, and the dark mage smiled. As the door burst into flames and fell to the floor, Aakuta stepped through the empty doorway. The people in the hallway scattered upon the sight of the dark mage stepping through the smoke and fire. Aakuta smiled inwardly and marched out the front door of the mansion.
“Get me a horse,” Aakuta snapped at the guards outside the mansion.
“What is going on in there?” questioned one of the guards.
“There is a fire,” shrugged Aakuta. “Get me a horse and be quick about it. I wish to be home before sunset. Move. Now.”
The guards looked at each other with indecision. They knew the mage had been summoned by Lord Druck, and they had seen his horse die upon arrival. Aakuta turned to glare at one of them, and the man ran towards the stables. He returned quickly with a horse, and Aakuta mounted it and rode towards the gates of the estate. He turned on the road that went past the estate. He had not ridden more than ten minutes when he heard a horse galloping behind him. He turned and saw the soldier that had been sent to his home to summon him.
“You must flee like the wind,” warned the soldier. “Lord Druck is sending a squad of soldiers after you. They will cut you down and retrieve the script Lord Druck gave you.”
Aakuta merely nodded. “Why do you risk your life to tell me this?” he asked.
“My life has been doomed since morning,” answered the soldier. “I would have been killed if I had returned without you. Now I will be killed because I did return with you. Lord Druck is in a rage. I have no choice but to flee. We must hurry.”
“What is your name?” asked Aakuta.
“I am called Werner,” answered the soldier. “Can you make our horses run as you did before?”
“I do not wish to sacrifice this horse,” replied Aakuta. “I think I like this one.”
“But did you not hear me?” Werner asked urgently. “A Kamaril squad is being sent to kill you. They will be here in mere minutes.”
The sound of galloping horses rose in the distance. Werner kicked his horse and started moving away swiftly, but Aakuta halted his animal. He turned around and faced the charging soldiers. As the Kamaril squad came into view, shouts of recognition rippled through their ranks. Swords were drawn, and orders were shouted.
Aakuta sat calmly and raised both arms as he pointed towards the squad of soldiers. As the squad got closer, flame leaped from Aakuta’s fingertips. The soldiers saw the threat too late. They tried to halt their horses, but fire enveloped them. Horses and humans alike screamed as the fire consumed the squad. In moments it was all over. The remains of the squad smoldered on the road. Aakuta turned to leave and saw Werner right behind him.
“I thought you left,” Aakuta stated.
“I came back to help you,” gulped Werner, “but I can see that you do not require any help. I cannot imagine such power.”
Aakuta stared at Werner for several moments as if lost in thought. Suddenly, he smiled.
“You shall travel with me, Werner,” the dark mage said. “Perhaps you can turn away those who come looking to abuse my power.”
“Live out in the open?” replied Werner. “There is nothing out there. What would I do?”
“Where else would you go?” questioned Aakuta. “And what is it you wish to do?”
“I don’t know,” confessed Werner after a few minutes of silence. “Free men in Khadora are an oddity. I am sure that Lord Druck will inquire about me. He will find me wherever I go. My days are limited.”
“Not if you have my protection,” responded Aakuta. “I may have need of someone who can do things for me. I do have certain rules, though. I wonder if you can abide by them?”
“What are the rules?” asked Werner.
“You shall never interfere in what I do,” began Aakuta. “You will obey without question, and you will never discuss what I do in private with anyone.”
“Sounds like a slave,” frowned Werner.
“No,” Aakuta shook his head. “If you ever wish to leave me, you may, but I will erase things from your memory before you leave. When I have no need of your services, you may do whatever you wish. I now have more gold than I know what to do with, so you will never be hungry or lacking in any way. The choice is yours.”
Werner thought about the mage’s proposition for some time before he answered.
“This erasing of my mind,” he asked, “will I forget everything?”
“Only from this moment until the time you leave me,” replied the mage. “You will still remember who you are and what you are running from. It will be as if you just left the Kamaril estate.”
“Then I shall do it,” decided Werner. “You must know that the Kamaril will come looking for us soon, though. Lord Druck will be greatly offended when he learns his squad is dead and he is out one hundred thousand gold.”
“Then it is time to move on,” shrugged Aakuta. “I have had a yearning to visit Khadoratung. Perhaps we shall go there and try to figure out what this script is really worth.”
“It is worth what is says,” assured Werner. “That is why Lord Druck tried to get it back. I know of moneymen in the capital who will negotiate it. We can trade it off for notes of smaller value for a minimal fee.”
“Already you are earning your keep,” responded the dark mage. “Let us get off this road and find another path to the capital.”
* * *
The Torak soldiers grew tense as they approached the ambush site. Eyes constantly swept the forests on both sides of the road, but nothing was visible. The three wagons loaded with watula rumbled along, kicking up small puffs of dust. The squad of soldiers escorting the caravan was evenly spread before it and after it.
When the first fire arrows flew from the woods, it was not so much a surprise, as it was a relief. A sudden gust of wind generated by the air mage forced the fire arrows to miss the wagons. The soldiers in front of the wagons immediately jumped from their horses and nocked arrows to their bows. The soldiers in the rear did likewise as the wagons picked up speed. The air mage continued to protect the wagons by channeling small gusts of wind and hurling them at the arrows.
The screams in the forest started before the Torak soldiers on the road even made it to the gully that paralleled the road. Arrows struck many Torak soldiers, but the men kept on moving towards cover. When the squad reached the gully, they took cover and waited. Screams rang through the woods in every direction. Suddenly, gray clad warriors raced onto the road. The Torak soldiers struck them down with arrows. Another group of gray warriors flooded onto the road and were followed by Torak soldiers. In moments it was over and the silence was broken only by the murmurs of the wounded.
The Torak soldiers in the gully rose cautiously and gathered in the center of the road. From both sides of the road, more Torak soldiers emerged from the forest.
“I want a count of the enemy,” shouted Cortain Talli as the Torak officer strode to the center of the road. “Any wounded are to be brought to me here on the road. Each squad, count your own men. I want to know of any deaths or injuries to Lord Marak’s forces.”
Black clad Torak soldiers ran in every direction. The abandoned horses were rounded up and the wagons halted. It took an hour before Cortain Talli had the information he wanted.
“A full corte of gray warriors are accounted for,” reported a Torak soldier. “All are dead except for the two before you. We had some light injuries, mostly to the escorting squad, but none are serious. The Qubari armor proved to work well.”
“Excellent,” smiled Cortain Talli. “Separate the prisoners. I want to talk to them one at a time. Did you search the dead?”
“We did,” nodded the soldier. “They carried nothing on them besides their weapons, not even a coin among them.”
The soldiers escorting the wagons had regrouped and mounted. They awaited permission to continue their journey. Cortain Talli approached one of the prisoners and knelt down before the seated man.
“Who are you?” asked Cortain Talli.
The gray warrior did not reply. The cortain drew a knife and held it to the prisoner’s throat.
“I will ask you again,” Talli said threateningly.
“I will answer no questions,” spat the prisoner. “You cannot expect a prisoner to break his Vows of Service by giving you information. I will give new Vows of Service and nothing more.”
“Gray warriors do not honor their Vows of Service,” retorted the cortain. “While I know that you are not really a gray warrior, I have every right to treat you as one. Do you forget that you are not wearing your clan colors?”
The blood drained out of the prisoner’s face as he glanced down at his gray clothes. In Khadora, captives of war were treated honorably. They were forced to swear new Vows of Service to their captors, but gray warriors belonged to no clan. As such, they were not entitled to any dealings of honor, because they were men without honor. Cortain Talli could do whatever he wished with a captured gray warrior, and the prisoner suddenly realized it.
“But I am a clansman,” protested the prisoner. “You say you already know that. Treat me with respect.”
“Not while you are clothed in gray,” Talli shook his head. “Do you wear your clan colors underneath?” he asked as his knife cut into the neckline of the prisoner’s gray tunic.
“No,” pleaded the prisoner. “We hid our uniforms on the other side of the rise.”
“We will see about that,” Cortain Talli said as he signaled for one of his soldiers. “What clan do you belong to, and where did you hide your uniforms?”
The prisoner hesitated as the summoned soldier approached.
“There will be great trouble if I answer your question,” protested the prisoner. “You do not know who you are dealing with.”
“I aim to know,” insisted Cortain Talli. “As a gray warrior, your death will linger for days. If I decide that you are a clansman, I will take you prisoner, and your fate will reside with Lord Marak.”
“Lord Marak will be dead within the fortnight,” sighed the prisoner. “What good will issuing vows to him do for me?”
“I am not sure,” shrugged the cortain. “Either way, you will still be alive a fortnight from now. If you cooperate, you will probably be defending Lord Marak. If not, you will be wishing for a death that is long overdue.”
“I am from the Nordon clan,” confessed the prisoner. “Our uniforms are hidden in a cave just beyond the ridge. You will find it by looking for a large lightning struck tree. The cave is just behind it.”
Cortain Talli nodded to his soldier and the man took off running.
“You made the right choice, soldier,” Talli said to the prisoner. “Lord Marak will not be dying anytime soon. Why is a member of the Lords’ Council attacking our caravans?”
“That is something that I cannot answer,” objected the prisoner. “I am still under Vows of Service to Lord Patel of the Nordon clan. You are asking me to violate those vows, yet you know that I cannot.”
“Imperial soldiers coming!” shouted one of the Torak soldiers.
Cortain Talli rose and gazed down the road. A full corte of Imperial soldiers were approaching. He walked away from the prisoner and tried to meet the new arrivals before they started asking too many questions. As he approached them, he saw that they were escorting a mediator for the Lords’ Council. He bowed out of respect for the mediator.
“Greetings, Katzu,” said Cortain Talli.
“Cortain Talli,” replied the mediator. “I see that we have interrupted a battle of some proportions. What is going on here?”
“I am surprised that you remember me,” Talli replied as he tried to be sociable.
“I rarely forget a face,” Katzu responded. “You are avoiding my question.”
“A Torak caravan was attacked,” sighed Cortain Talli. “We managed to defeat the attackers.”
“I have heard rumors of Torak caravans that have gone missing,” declared Katzu as he gazed at the carnage. “It would appear that gray warriors attacked you. I hope your losses were not too severe?”
Cortain Talli’s mind whirled with the knowledge that Katzu represented the Lords’ Council and that a member of that council had just attacked the caravan. He was not sure if Katzu would carry news of the encounter back to the capital. Lord Marak would be furious if everyone knew who his enemy was before he knew.
“The battle turned in our favor,” Talli finally replied. “I do hope these Imperial troops were not sent out to aid in the battle?”
“They are my escort,” answered Katzu. “I must mediate a border dispute. I sense that there is more to what is happening here than you care to tell me, Cortain. You are aware that I am a representative of the Lords’ Council?”
“I am very aware of that,” nodded Talli as he realized that any of the Imperial soldiers would be free to tell of what they saw. “In fact, your arrival presents me with a problem. May I speak to you privately?”
Katzu frowned, but he nodded as he dismounted. Cortain Talli led him off to the side of the road. Katzu waited patiently for the Torak cortain to speak.
“This is the fourth Torak caravan that has been ambushed,” Talli began. “The wagons and cargo are not being stolen. They are being destroyed. All evidence of the ambushes is swiftly removed. The last ambush was not totally in secret. One of our men escaped and reported it. This time we stationed two cortes of men in the forest beforehand. We were very successful in destroying the attackers. In fact, we took two of them captive.”
“Then you have had a great day,” shrugged Katzu. “I sense different feelings from you, though.”
“Indeed,” nodded Talli. “These are not gray warriors at all. They are clansmen disguised as gray warriors.”
“That is inexcusable,” Katzu scowled. “What clan would allow such a despicable act?”
“That is where my nervousness comes in, Katzu,” explained Cortain Talli. “I am supposed to personally deliver that information to Lord Marak. If you and the Imperial troops report what you have seen here today, Lord Marak’s enemy will be forewarned. That would put the Torak clan in grave jeopardy.”
“I think it would serve notice on your enemy that you are not to be trifled with,” argued Katzu. “I do not see the problem?”
“What if I told you that the clan that these gray warriors are from,” Talli asked softly, “sits on the Lords’ Council?”
Katzu’s face grew pale and his veins bulged. “I would demand a full investigation and an appropriate punishment for your lies,” Katzu answered sternly. “Do not besmirch the reputation of the Lords’ Council.”
“I do not wish to,” Cortain Talli said nervously, “but I have my Vows of Service to Lord Marak to uphold. If I could prove to you that a member of the Lords’ Council ordered this attack, would you agree to hold off telling anyone until Lord Marak approves it? Surely you can understand the gravity of such a thing.”
“Any member of the Lords’ Council could crush the Torak clan without using more than a portion of his army,” nodded Katzu. “What proof do you have of this allegation?”
“I just began interrogating one of the prisoners before you arrived,” answered Cortain Talli. “He admitted that he was a soldier in the Nordon clan. Their uniforms are hidden in a cave beyond the ridge. I sent a man over there to investigate.”
“Bring me the prisoner that you have not interrogated,” demanded Katzu. “Do not speak to him.”
Cortain Talli nodded and walked over to the second prisoner. He grabbed his arm and brought him to his feet. The man looked around as he was guided towards Katzu. He saw the Imperial troops and shook his head.
“I am Katzu,” the mediator declared when the prisoner was halted in front of him. “I am a mediator for the Lords’ Council. What clan do you belong to?”
“I have nothing to say,” scowled the prisoner.
“Let me make something clear to you,” Katzu said calmly, “I represent the Lords’ Council. Not even a lord sitting on the Lords’ Council would dare to defy me without full approval of the entire council. Your Vows of Service cannot even shield you from answering me. The Lords’ Council supersedes your vows. Now, I know that your uniforms are already being gathered from the cave beyond the ridge. Make this easy on yourself. Answer my question.”
The prisoner turned and glared at the other prisoner. Katzu’s hand grabbed the prisoner by the chin and turned the man’s head to face him.
“You will look at me when I am speaking to you,” demanded Katzu. “I am only going to ask my questions once. If you do not answer, I have the authority to force you to answer. Trust me, you do not want me to use that authority. Answer.”
“I am a soldier in the Nordon clan,” the prisoner said softly.
“Under whose authority are you acting at this moment?” asked Katzu.
“Direct orders from Lord Marshal Orik,” answered the captive.
“Is Lord Patel aware of these orders?” asked Katzu.
“He is,” nodded the prisoner. “He was present when Lord Marshal Orik sent us off.”
“And what exactly where your orders?” pushed the mediator.
“We were to wait at the Nordon estate outside of Deep Bend,” answered the prisoner. “When we were notified that a Torak caravan would be coming, we were to dress like gray warriors and destroy it.”
“Destroy it?” asked Katzu.
“Aye,” nodded the man. “Kill everybody and destroy the wagons. We are supposed to hide the evidence so that nobody would know that the caravan ever existed.”
“Do you know why the Nordon clan is doing this?” asked Katzu.
“No,” the man shook his head. “They don’t tell us the whys of things. They just tell us what we are to do. What will happen to me now?”
“That is up to Lord Marak of the Torak clan,” shrugged the mediator. “Go back and sit where you were before.”
“Do you understand the predicament that I am in?” asked Cortain Talli.
“I do,” nodded Katzu. “I probably should take this matter before the Lords’ Council immediately. To have this type of behavior from a lord sitting on the council saddens me greatly. This is not the Khadora that I love.”
“Technically,” smiled Cortain Talli, “no clan has asked for mediation in this matter. Would it be permissible to ask for your vow of silence until Lord Marak learns of this treachery?”
“And what can Lord Marak do?” questioned the mediator. “The Torak clan is not going to stand up to Lord Patel. He would be crushed too easily.”
“I cannot say what Lord Marak will do with the information,” shrugged the cortain, “but I feel he has a right to know before this is made public. It is Torak bodies and cargo that have littered this road three times before. If Lord Patel knows that his identity has been revealed, his armies will march on the Torak clan immediately.”
“You are correct about Lord Patel’s reaction,” frowned Katzu. “If I brought this matter before the Lords’ Council, the Torak clan would be wiped out before the matter was resolved in Khadoratung.”
“And that would not be fair,” Talli pointed out.
Katzu nodded as he thought. Finally he said, “There has been no request for the services of this mediator. I am privy to certain knowledge of events in this part of Khadora, but I see no immediate need for me to act upon that knowledge. I will instruct my Imperial escort that discussion of this incident is not in the best interests of Khadora at this time. Tell Lord Marak to contact me when he learns of this treachery.”
“It shall be as you say, Katzu,” bowed Cortain Talli.
Katzu returned to his escort of Imperial soldiers. He mounted his horse and waved his escort forward as the Torak soldiers cleared off the road. Within minutes the Imperial troops had passed out of sight. A Torak soldier carrying a green and white uniform ran up to Cortain Talli.
“He told the truth,” gasped the soldier. “There are enough uniforms in there for an entire corte. Were those Imperial troops that I saw down here?”
“They were,” nodded Cortain Talli. “We need to clean this area up before somebody else happens along. Send the caravan to the campsite they had chosen. We will meet them there later.”
The cortain signaled for another soldier. He gave orders to drag the dead into the woods and bury them. Then he ordered the two prisoners bound and placed in one of the wagons.
It took almost an hour to clean up the ambush site and catch up to the caravan. When the Torak cortes arrived, Cortain Talli walked over to the air mage.
“I need to send a message to Fardale immediately,” declared Cortain Talli. “Can you do that?”
“Give me just a few moments and you can deliver the message directly to Lord Marshal Yenga yourself,” nodded the mage.
* * *
The Council Room was large and immaculately white. A long white marble table occupied the center of the room with six chairs around it. Occupying the six chairs were the most powerful lords in all of Khadora. They were the Lords’ Council.
“Unless there is any other pressing business,” said Lord Mirakotto, “I think we should adjourn for today.”
“We still have not addressed this business with Lord Marak,” interjected Lord Patel. “The longer we let this type of behavior fester, the harder it will be to remove it.”
“What is there to discuss?” questioned Lord Mirakotto. “The man is death waiting to happen. Why waste our time in this chamber discussing him?”
“None of us has gotten to where we are by leaving loose ends hanging,” argued Lord Patel. “All we have to do is issue a decree from this body to remove the Torak clan from Khadora. We can outlaw it.”
“We cannot,” Lord Woton shook his head. “Only the Emperor can disband a clan.”
“But this body actually certified this Torak clan,” protested Lord Patel.
“Lord Woton is correct,” shrugged Lord Mirakotto as he smiled at Lord Patel. “The Lords’ Council can recognize a new clan, but once we have done so, only the Emperor can dissolve it. Look, I agree that Lord Marak must be dealt with, but I wonder if the Lords’ Council is the proper venue? The Torak clan is a small bothersome group at the very edge of Khadora. Historically the frontier has been a land of misfits whose only purpose was that of a buffer zone to protect the Imperial Valley from intruders. Without Lord Marak, the Torak clan will cease to be a problem.”
“And without the Torak clan, Lord Marak is harmless,” countered Lord Garic. “Removing either will end this foolishness about freeing the slaves. Lord Marak is but a gnat.”
“And not worthy of the Lords’ Council’s time,” nodded Lord Mirakotto as he fixed his gaze upon Lord Patel. “His fate awaits him no matter what this body decides.”
“Perhaps you are right,” nodded Lord Patel as he caught his colleague’s meaning. “Perhaps you and I can discuss this outside of chambers, Lord Mirakotto?”
Lord Mirakotto shrugged and adjourned the meeting.