Lord Marshal Grefon sat impatiently on his horse while Lord Marak held a conversation with Yenga, the Sorgan Marshal. Grefon had heard that Lord Marak needed a mount to return to Fardale and assumed that Marak’s horse must have taken ill on the trip to Watula Valley. It appeared to Grefon that the request for a horse took quite a long time, but eventually a soldier led a fresh mount to Lord Marak and saluted. Lord Marshal Grefon shook his head at the Sorgan soldier’s poor knowledge of procedure. One never saluted another Clan’s Lord. He would have expected more from one of Marshal Yenga’s men.
Marak mounted and started back towards Fardale without a glance towards Grefon, so the Situ Lord Marshal followed in silence. He was not accustomed to being treated so poorly by one of his own officers and Grefon decided he would wait until they reached Fardale to straighten out the ungrateful pup. It might be amusing to dress down Marak in front of his own men.
Marak kept up a fairly good pace and the trip to the border of Fardale did not take long. The first Fardale field that Lord Marshal Grefon saw was quite barren. He shook his head at the size of the task he would have when he took over Fardale. He noticed about a dozen fresh graves in one corner of the field and some of them were very small, as if a grave for a child. On closer inspection Grefon saw the distinctive markers made from the broken head of a hoe, each one scratched with words identifying the lost soul. Not one of the graves was marked with a sword hilt, which indicates the death of a soldier.
Lord Marshal Grefon realized that the Sorgans had attacked this field and killed farmers and children. He wondered what Marak had given up to end the conflict. Grefon’s anger grew as he thought of a Situ soldier giving in to his enemy. Marak should have struck back at the Sorgans with every soldier he commanded, but it was obvious that the Lord of Fardale chose to submit instead. Small wonder Lord Marak did not want Lord Marshal Grefon to know of the settlement he had agreed to. Grefon did not care what Marak wanted, he was determined to find out what Marak had given away from his estate.
A group of women and children working the barren field paused in their labors to wave to Lord Marak and he waved back. Some of workers wore the brown tunic of slaves, but there was nobody guarding them. Grefon was appalled not only at the casual familiarity of Marak’s subjects, but also with the apparent disregard for supervision of Fardale slaves. Any one of these slaves could flee into the woods and never be seen again. Lord Marshal Grefon decided to remain quiet and observe until it was time to confront Lord Marak in front of his men.
The next field Lord Marshal Grefon came to was lush with watula. If anything, the harvest of this field would be greater than any he had seen in Watula Valley and the Sorgan estate was known for its bountiful harvest. Grefon began to think that this field was probably an aberration, but as they progressed closer to the mansion he saw field after field with thriving crops. In fact, the first barren field which Lord Marshal Grefon saw was the aberration. Fardale was flush with watula and would surely have enough grain to meet its contracts, the contracts which Lord Lashendo had stated would be impossible to fulfill.
Each time they passed workers, they waved at Lord Marak and the Fardale Lord waved back. With the estate walls in sight, Lord Marshal Grefon saw soldiers practicing, but the methods they were utilizing were not standard. In fact, their methods were of the same type that reports on Marak had spoken of when he was a Squad Leader. Grefon had credited the young Squad Leader for experimenting with new methods, but actually using these bizarre methods to train an army was another thing entirely.
Some soldiers were crawling through the fields getting dirt all over their yellow and green while others were scampering around as if they couldn’t be easily seen. Lord Marshal Grefon shook his head with dismay over the childish routines he observed. Anyone with a decent pair of eyes would easily see these men coming and they would sacrifice speed to utilize these strange maneuvers.
Lord Marshal Grefon was slightly more pleased when they entered the main gate of the Fardale estate. The soldiers on duty were fresh and sharp. They saluted smartly and were proper in every respect. Grefon recognized some of the men as having been in Marak’s Corte when he left Lituk Valley. Tagoro appeared to have been given the rank of Cortain, he noted. That certainly would not hold when they got back to Lituk Valley. Only the Lord Marshal could give Tagoro such a promotion, and only with Lord Ridak’s agreement. Marak may promote his own forces as he wished, but he had no control over Grefon’s men and Tagoro was one of his men. Thinking along those lines, Grefon searched for Squad Leader Rybak. Rybak was supposed to be reporting on Marak’s progress and Grefon had not heard a word since the Corte left Lituk Valley. That boy was overdue for a stern lecture on his attendance to duty.
Lord Marshal Grefon gazed around the Fardale estate and was surprised to see so many new buildings. He wondered how Marak found the time and resources to construct so many new buildings and still be able to grow enough grain to fulfill his contracts. As he continued his inspection, he noticed the complete lack of a slave compound and alarm bells began to go off in his head. He shuddered for a moment and thought Marak might have traded all of the Fardale slaves for peace with his neighbors, but he quickly realized that there would not have been time to dismantle the slave compound. The graves he had seen indicated that the conflict was going on just a few days ago.
If Lord Marak was messing with Khadora’s use of slavery as a punishment for serious crimes, Lord Ridak would not be pleased. In fact, the Lords Council would not be pleased. Lord Marshal Grefon definitely needed to get to the bottom of this matter. As he was struggling to store all of his questions in his head, his eyes landed on Rybak. Rybak was also wearing the Cortain plume and Lord Marshal Grefon was almost certain that Rybak immediately about-faced when he saw Grefon.
Marak halted at the steps to the mansion and dismounted and Grefon followed his lead. A young woman pranced down the steps and barely nodded her head instead of bowing to the Lord of Fardale.
“Lord Marak,” she excitedly began, “I have some ideas I want to discuss with you as soon as you are available.”
Lord Marshal Grefon snickered under his breath as he pictured the upcoming session between Lord Marak and his new mistress. He could just imagine her important new ideas and wondered what color curtains she was going to ask for. Perhaps she had ideas about furnishing the Lord’s suite with rich Fakara silk. Grefon’s teeth snapped shut and his jaw tightened when he heard Lord Mark’s response.
“It will have to wait, Bursar Kasa,” Lord Marak replied. “I understand that there is a Council meeting scheduled this afternoon. I want to update them on our agreement with the Sorgans and Litari. I am going to see Lord Marshal Grefon situated and then I will join you in the Meeting Chamber.”
Before Lord Marshal Grefon could regain his wits, the young woman danced off with a sparkle in her eye and Lectain Zorkil strode up with a Marshal of the Ragatha Clan in tow.
“Lord Marak,” saluted Lectain Zorkil, “this is Marshal Tingo of Woodville. He appeared this morning with the desire to speak on your behalf before the emissary from the Lords Council. I explained to him that he was too late and he requested to stay and talk with you before he left.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Lord Marak,” welcomed the Marshal with the red and yellow plume. “Lord Zawbry sends his greetings and offers his limited assistance in your times of trouble. He values the partnership between the Ragatha and Situ Clans and I stand ready to speak on your behalf against the Sorgan and Litari filth.”
“Marshal Tingo,” addressed Lord Marak, “welcome to Fardale. Please inform Lord Zawbry that I am touched by his consideration, but I have concluded an agreement with the Sorgans and Litari that I am satisfied with. I would welcome a visit from Lord Zawbry to discuss matters of common interest, such as the desire for the Ragatha Clan to utilize Fardale as a right-of-way.”
“But we already have such an agreement,” protested Marshal Tingo.
“Indeed,” commented Lord Marak, “I have read it myself. The agreement, however, does not offer any compensation to Fardale for its use. It is a small matter and not of great consequence, but it will make for a good foundation to base our discussions on. If you wish to discuss this further with me before you leave, I will make time for you following my Council meeting but I fear I must take my leave now.”
“Of course, Lord Marak,” Marshal Tingo replied. “I would like some more of your time. I will wait until your meeting is over.”
Lord Marshal Grefon burned with anger at being treated as a servant. Lord Marak had made no attempt to introduce him to Marshal Tingo or his female Bursar. He stormed up the steps to follow the already retreating Lord Marak. Lord Marak stopped outside the Marshal’s suite and opened the door.
“I trust these quarters will be sufficient during your stay with us, Lord Marshal Grefon?” Marak inquired formally.
“Do you not have a Marshal of Fardale yet?” quizzed Grefon.
“I have someone for the position but he has not been installed yet,” offered Lord Marak. “He will not be needing these quarters during the time of your stay with us.”
“The quarters will do nicely,” Lord Marshal Grefon answered as he slung his bag into the room. “I will get settled after the Council meeting.”
“You may as well get settled now,” instructed Lord Marak. “The Council of Advisors meeting is closed to everyone except Council members. I’m sure you can appreciate the delicacy of the matters which might be discussed in such a meeting.”
“Of course, I do,” snapped Lord Marshal Grefon. “I was privy to the most delicate of Situ matters while you were still tied to your mother. You have no reason to exclude me from any Situ matters.”
“The Council of Advisors do not concern themselves with matters of the Situ Clan,” clarified Lord Marak. “They deal only in matters of importance to the Fardale estate. While you have high rank in the Situ Clan, you have no standing in Fardale. Were I to convene a meeting to discuss Situ concerns, you would be among the first I would invite. Your knowledge of the Situ Clan is impressive and filled with many facts which others would overlook. I doubt, however, that you could contribute much to the status of our current crop, the value of our holdings in Fardale or the morale of the workers. Please do not be offended. This has nothing to do with your status in the Situ Clan. This has to do with what you can offer to the topics being discussed.”
“I heard you mention to that woman that you plan to discuss the agreement with the Sorgan and Litari,” pushed Lord Marshal Grefon. “I want to be involved in that discussion.”
“That woman, as you call her,” smiled Lord Marak, “is Bursar Kasa and she is responsible for some of the miracles that have occurred in Fardale. While you may not think that a woman can possess the skills needed to delve into high finance, I would stand her abilities up against any Bursar in the Situ Clan. As far as the agreement with the Sorgan and Litari, quite frankly, it is none of your business. I have agreed to nothing that affects the Situ Clan or Lord Ridak. If I had, you would be informed.”
“You have informed me of nothing,” barked Lord Marshal Grefon. “You are hiding every last detail of anything concerning Fardale and it is not acceptable to me or to Lord Ridak.”
“I am sorry you feel that way,” sighed Lord Marak. “I have much to tell you of Fardale and the progress we have made, but it must wait until the Council meeting is over. I have an entire estate waiting for me and I must dispatch my orders to ensure its smooth operation. Let me get that task out of the way and I will deal with your less immediate thirst for information later. You will not be reporting to Lord Ridak while I am in the meeting, so relax for a while.”
Before Lord Marshal Grefon could reply, Lord Marak strode across the entry foyer and entered the large double doors of the Meeting Chamber. Grefon stood and stared after him and noticed the other people streaming into the Meeting Chamber. Lord Marak’s Council of Advisors appeared to be quite large, but what struck Grefon between the eyes was the caliber of the people going in. With the exception of Seneschal Pito, Lectain Zorkil, and Marak’s female Bursar, everyone was a common laborer.
Grefon’s fury actually shook his body when he realized that Lord Marak was going to share information with common laborers, which he refused to divulge to the Lord Marshal of the Situ Clan. Lord Marshal Grefon slammed the door to his temporary quarters and strode out into the courtyard. Nobody paid any attention to the Lord Marshal of the Situ and that further inflamed Grefon’s irritation. Normally, when he visited an estate the soldiers all held him in awe and did everything they could think of to grab his attention. Fardale was different. He was sure that everyone knew who he was and yet no one seemed to care. They all went about their chores without notice of his presence.
Lord Marshal Grefon walked around the outside of the mansion aimlessly. At the rear of the mansion was a small courtyard and a flower garden. Grefon headed towards the flower garden and stopped when he saw a Fardale soldier and a young woman in a tight embrace on one of the benches. Recognition of the soldier registered with the Lord Marshal and Grefon strode over to the couple.
“Squad Leader Rybak,” snapped the Lord Marshal.
Rybak looked up and cringed. Silently, he pushed the young woman away from him and she readily took the hint and left the garden.
“It is Cortain Rybak now,” corrected the plumed officer. “I did not expect to see you here, Lord Marshal Grefon. How did you get past the bandits?”
“You may be playing at being a Cortain here in Fardale,” growled Lord Marshal Grefon, “but you are still a member of my Army and I decide who wears the plumes in my Army. Why have I not received any of your reports on Lord Marak?”
“The bandits,” cringed Rybak. “How did you manage to get past them? You are the first person from Lituk Valley to make it this far.”
“Surely, you could have found some method of getting a message through to me,” insisted Lord Marshal Grefon. “I see a Fardale in shambles and a young Lord out of his depth. What do you have to report?”
“This is not a very safe place to talk,” offered Rybak. “Where has Lord Marak put you up?”
“I can detect a stall when I see one, Squad Leader Rybak,” scowled Lord Marshal Grefon. “If I don’t get your report immediately, you will not even retain the rank of Squad Leader when I get you back to Lituk Valley.”
“Cortain Rybak,” called a third voice, “your presence is required in the Lectain’s quarters immediately. Hurry along.”
Lord Marshal Grefon turned to see Cortain Tagoro standing on the path behind him. “What is the meaning of this interruption, Squad Leader Tagoro?” spat the Lord Marshal.
“Has the Lord Marshal of the Situ Clan lost his eyesight?” smiled Cortain Tagoro. “This is a yellow plume upon my helmet, Lord Marshal.”
“Not for long, you impertinent dog,” scowled Lord Marshal Grefon. “You shall be lucky to remain a free man when we return to Lituk Valley.”
“Be that as it may,” stated Cortain Tagoro, “but in Fardale I am a Cortain and due the respect associated with the rank, even from superior officers.”
Lord Marshal Grefon stepped forward and extended his hand to grasp the plume from Tagoro’s helmet. Cortain Tagoro deftly leaped back and pulled the double-edged sword from its sheath on his back and held it the Lord Marshal’s chest.
“One more step, Lord Marshal Grefon,” snapped Cortain Tagoro, “and I shall have to place you under arrest. You are here as a guest of Lord Marak and, as such, are entitled to certain liberties, but those liberties do not include interfering with military personnel in the performance of their duties.”
“I am the Lord Marshal of the Situ Clan,” shouted Lord Marshal Grefon. “I will not stand for such insolence on the part of any of my officers. You will place yourself on report and I shall deal with you when we get back to Lituk Valley.”
“Lord Marak has not ordered me to go to Lituk Valley,” persisted Cortain Tagoro, “nor do I expect him to do so.”
“You do not report to Lord Marak,” sizzled Lord Marshal Grefon. “You report to me.”
“You are incorrect, Sir,” corrected Cortain Tagoro. “No one on this estate reports to you. We are all sworn to Lord Marak and Lord Marak alone. What he orders is what we will do. If you have a desire to be escorted to Lituk Valley, I would suggest taking that matter up with Lord Marak.”
Cortain Tagoro promptly sheathed his sword and strode out of the flower garden leaving a dazed and confused Lord Marshal in his wake. Grefon turned to take his anger out on Rybak and found, instead, the Marshal from Woodville.
“Such impertinence would not be accepted in the Ragatha Clan,” smiled Marshal Tingo.
“It will not be accepted in the Situ Clan, either,” snapped Lord Marshal Grefon. “If I have to bring the entire Situ Army back here to clean this place up, I swear I will. Who does Marak think he is? I put him in this position. Without me, he is nothing. I should let the Sorgans eat him alive and be glad that they have rid Khadora of another fanatic.”
Lord Marshal Grefon turned and stormed out of the flower garden leaving a bemused Ragatha Marshal behind. Grefon stormed back into the mansion and saw people filing out of the Meeting Chamber. He went to the door and waited while the people filed out. Seeing Lord Marak at the other end of the room, he impatiently pushed his way through the crowd exiting the room. He ignored the crude remarks thrown at him as he walked briskly towards Lord Marak.
“Now that your meeting with the fieldhands is over,” growled Lord Marshal Grefon, “perhaps you will give me some answers as to what you are doing here in Fardale?”
“I would like to dispatch our Ragatha neighbor first,” stated Marak with a barely concealed contempt. “It would enable him to leave the estate before dark and then we can discuss whatever you wish.”
“Now!” demanded Lord Marshal Grefon. “You have put me off too long. I want answers as to what you are doing to my estate and I want them now.”
Lord Marak’s eyes narrowed as he glared at the Situ Lord Marshal. “Your estate?” he quizzed. “Since when did Fardale become your estate?”
“You know what I mean,” backpedaled the Lord Marshal. “What are you doing with this Situ estate?”
“You come very close to ending your freedom,” Lord Marak declared softly. “Sit. Marshal Tingo will have to wait. What is it you want to know?”
“I want to know everything,” Grefon said while trying to calm himself. Marak was no fool and Grefon knew better then to let his temper get hold of him.
“Everything is a very broad term,” sighed Lord Marak. “I will not discuss my agreement with the Sorgan and Litari, but I can bring you up to date on our other matters.”
“Why won’t you discuss the agreement?” Grefon calmly asked. “Your refusal causes me to believe that the solution was detrimental to the Situ Clan.”
“I have already assured you that is not the case,” declared Lord Marak. “Fardale is in better shape now than it has ever been. Lord Ridak wanted someone in the position here to salvage the grain contracts. I have done that with Kasa’s help. There will be no mar on the Situ Clan because of Fardale. I have delivered what I promised to deliver. Does anything else really matter?”
“Yes,” Lord Marshal Grefon answered, trying desperately to maintain a calm composure. “Your men refuse to accept me as Lord Marshal of the Situ Clan. I was told that they have sworn to you. Is that true?”
“Yes, it is,” affirmed Lord Marak. “Every single person in Fardale has personally sworn Vows of Service to me.”
“But the men from Lituk Valley are my men,” protested Lord Marshal Grefon. “How can they swear to you when they are already sworn?”
“Lord Ridak gave me absolute authority over Fardale, as you well know,” explained Lord Marak. “That allows me to require the Vows from my subjects and replace their previous Vows with Lord Ridak’s blessing. Lord Ridak instructed you to send my Corte to Fardale under my command and they were to be stationed in Fardale. Being stationed in Fardale puts them under my authority and requires the utterance of the Vows of Service, again with Lord Ridak’s blessing. You may argue that was not his intent, but it no longer matters.”
“But if you knew it was not his intent,” reasoned Lord Marshal Grefon, “how could you go ahead and force the Vows?”
“You forced me to,” Marak pointed out. “In the first place, I do not know what Lord Ridak intended. I would like to ask you, but I doubt you would reveal it to me. Secondly, you intentionally placed a spy in my ranks. The obvious reason for this is that you considered me expendable and wanted to choose the timing of my disposal. I would guess that Lord Ridak and yourself may have had entirely different reasons for sending me out here, but both of them were selfish reasons. Neither of you thought I would be able to do what I promised to do and now that I have, you don’t know what to make of it. I believe you may have tipped your hand when you spoke of Fardale as being your estate.”
“You think you are so clever, Squad Leader,” snarled Lord Marshal Grefon, “but I control something you hold very dear.”
Quicker than Lord Marshal Grefon could react, Lord Marak stabbed a knife into the table between the Lord Marshal’s hands and rose.
“Were you to even think of harming my mother,” threatened Lord Marak, “I would treat you to slowest, most painful death you could imagine and I know your imagination is colorful. This meeting is over Lord Marshal of the Situ. You will not be needing accommodations for the night. If you are not off Fardale lands by nightfall, my men will hunt you down like the animal you are. Tell Lord Ridak that his next messenger boy had better have manners and know how to remain civil. Get out of my sight.”
Lord Marshal Grefon was about to protest, but when he looked into Lord Marak’s eyes, death stared back at him. He quickly rose and left the room. Lord Marak’s gaze followed the exiting Lord Marshal and stopped when they landed on Marshal Tingo of Woodville.
“I do not recall inviting you into this room,” barked Lord Marak.
“I am sorry, Lord Marak,” smiled the Ragatha Marshal as his eyes took in the still vibrating knife stuck in the table. “You said that you would speak with me after the meeting and the door to the room was wide open. I did not realize you were having another meeting before mine.”
“If you would afford me a few minutes before we meet,” suggested Lord Marak.
“That is not necessary,” interrupted the Ragatha Marshal. “I think it is better that you and Lord Zawbry meet face to face, anyway. Why don’t I leave you now and return to Woodville? I will tell Lord Zawbry that he should meet with you soon.”
“That is an excellent idea,” answered Lord Marak. “I look forward to meeting the Lord of Woodville.”
The Marshal of Woodville quickly exited and raced after the departing Lord Marshal Grefon, hoping he would be in time to talk with him.