Lord Marshal Grefon led the way into his study and sat behind his desk leaving Cortain Koors and Squad Leader Marak standing in front of his desk. For several moments the Lord Marshal straightened his desk and ignored the two soldiers standing before him. Eventually, Squad Leader Rybak entered the study and the Lord Marshal looked up.
“Your report, Squad Leader Rybak,” ordered Grefon.
“All wrist bands are properly displayed, Lord Marshal,” reported Rybak.
“Is there further need for disciplinary action on this matter?” quizzed Grefon.
“No, Lord Marshal,” stated Rybak. “No one hesitated to make the wristbands correct.”
“Very well, Squad Leader,” accepted the Lord Marshal. “Please wait in the sitting room until I need you and close the door when you leave.”
Squad Leader Rybak closed the door to the study and disappeared.
“Now, Cortain Koors,” began the Lord Marshal, “you have a disciplinary item that needs to be discussed. What is it?”
“Squad Leader Marak has broken his Vows of Service, Lord Marshal,” smiled Koors. “He has broken the rules by speaking to slaves without orders. As the Lord Marshal is aware, his acceptance in the Army is now forfeit as is his freedom.”
Grefon sat and stared at the two men standing before him, switching his gaze from one to the other. He knew them to be two soldiers who were loyal to the Situ Clan and the Army, but he also knew them as bitter enemies.
“Are you stating your claim to his person?” asked Grefon.
“Oh, no, Lord Marshal,” grinned Cortain Koors. “The violation was not against me, but against the Lord of the Situ Clan whom the Squad Leader gave his vows. I am merely performing my duty in reporting the infraction.”
“I see,” Grefon said straight-faced. “This is an extremely serious matter. You saw this Squad Leader talking with slaves and have verified that he was without orders?”
“I did not actually see Marak talking with a slave, Lord Marshal,” answered Koors, “but it is common knowledge that the Squad Leader went to speak with his mother. As for his orders, I am his Cortain and issue his orders personally. His orders did not include any association with slaves.”
The Lord Marshal stared at Marak, looking for any signs of emotion, but the Squad Leader just stood at attention and looked straight ahead. “A man is not stripped out of the Army and into slave browns on common knowledge, Cortain,” instructed the Lord Marshal. “If you did not see him talking to slaves, then what is your evidence?”
“His own admittance,” beamed Koors. “I was waiting in his barracks for him to return and I asked him straight out if he had been in the slave compound. His own admission is sufficient guilt.”
The Lord Marshal rose and walked to the window overlooking the orchard and barren field. The men of Tagoro’s squad were performing their duties, but each of them kept an eye on the Lord Marshal’s window.
“Squad Leader Marak,” asked Grefon without taking his gaze from the window, “is the account given by Cortain Koors accurate?”
“It is, Lord Marshal,” Marak answered.
“You have shown great promise, Squad Leader,” declared the Lord Marshal. “You were raised to Squad Leader after only four years and your efforts have proved to me that it was a wise decision on my part. Your men are the most efficient and best trained in the entire Army. What could have been going through your head to risk all of this and your own freedom on a whim?”
The Lord Marshal returned to his chair and watched Marak as the Squad Leader tried to justify his actions.
“Lord Marshal,” stated Marak, “I have enjoyed my service to the Army of the Situ Clan and I have always tried to perform at my best, but since I joined the Army, I have not been allowed to speak with my mother. While I would not hesitate to put my life on the line for the Situ Clan, I could no longer tolerate the injustice which has been forced upon me by my superiors. Five minutes of speaking with my mother does not make me any less effective as a soldier, which is the function I perform for the Situ Clan.”
“So,” summarized Grefon, “you feel that following orders and honoring your pledge to Lord Ridak are not the proper duties of a soldier? Do you think an Army can be run with every soldier interpreting the rules as he sees fit?”
“Certainly not, Lord Marshal,” agreed Marak, “but I also do not believe that a just ruler intentionally inflicts pain on his loyal supporters. Does Lord Ridak think that I kill his enemies for the food he puts on my plate? Do you believe that I put my own body in harms way for the fine bed and roof that has been provided? Men serve for a number of reasons, Lord Marshal. Some serve out of fear and some serve out of loyalty and respect. Still others join to aid in a cause they believe in.”
“And which reason has you serving the Army?” interrupted the Lord Marshal.
“I have served out of loyalty and respect, Lord Marshal,” answered Marak. “Loyalty and respect are attributes that swing both ways, Lord Marshal. Every day of my service in the Army has become harder to bear. Every day that I watch my mother in the fields being abused by the Lord I serve becomes another day in which my respect dwindles. Every day I watch men being belittled by superior officers, whose only existence is seen as that of a tormentor, and it lowers my respect.”
“Are you quite through Squad Leader?” snapped the Lord Marshal.
“No, Lord Marshal, I am not,” retorted Marak. “The men under my command perform well because I treat them with respect, respect they deserve. The men in this Army are paid the same whether they excel at their job or not. My men do not excel because they are getting more than the next man, they excel because it is appreciated. I know you agree with what I am saying because you treat your own men with respect, but your Army is large and those under you do not follow your ideals. Cortain Koors has intentionally been after this moment for six years, six years in which he has done everything he could to get me out of the Army.”
Koors started shifting uneasily, but his face still held his wide grin. Lord Marshal Grefon shook his head and stared at the Squad Leader.
“Are you now going to place all of the blame for this incident on Cortain Koors?” sighed Grefon.
“No, Lord Marshal,” replied Marak. “The incident is my own doing and no one else deserves the blame. I am not trying to escape your justice. I am explaining what path brought me to this office so that you may help others avoid a similar mistake. I am leaving some good men behind, men who have been treated with respect and need to be treated so in the future. If they are not, you will lose their efficiency. I guess what I am trying to say is simple. Do with me what you will, but for the sake of the Army, make the changes that are necessary to ensure that it does not happen to others.”
“Are you suggesting that I get rid of Cortain Koors?” questioned Grefon.
“No, Lord Marshal,” Marak sighed. “Koors is only a symptom of the problem. His removal would help only three squads. What I am suggesting is that part of your training be to instill respect for the rest of the men who constitute your Army. Treat the men with respect and they will respect your every order.”
“Lord Marshal,” interrupted Cortain Koors, “with all respect, I do not have to stand for this insolent slave deriding my character. What his justification is for his outlandish behavior is unimportant. The fact remains that he has violated his Vows of Service and the punishment is quite clear. Not even the Lord Marshal can override the Vows. To do so would violate your own Vows. You cannot allow Marak to remain as Squad Leader any longer, not even until the official sentencing by Lord Ridak.”
“I am quite aware of my Vows, Cortain,” snapped Grefon. “The fact is, Marak is no longer a Squad Leader. Marak, did you discuss this problem with anyone?”
“Only Squad Leader Tagoro, Lord Marshal,” answered Marak. “He was present when Cortain Koors and I spoke on the evening in question.”
“In your opinion,” quizzed Grefon, “would he discuss this problem with anyone else?”
“No, Lord Marshal, he would not,” Marak replied.
“I am, then, puzzled by the annoying show of support for you this morning,” commented Grefon. “I do not appreciate such displays in my Army. I find them insubordinate. Cortain, who have you spoken with concerning this affair?”
“Everyone in the Corte knows about it, Lord Marshal,” stated Koors as his smile turned to a tight-lipped grimace.
“And how do they know?” prompted the Lord Marshal. “I wish to hear how this confidential matter has become common knowledge.”
“Well, Lord Marshal,” fretted Koors, “one of Rybak’s men spotted a soldier leaping the fence into the slave compound and reported it to Squad Leader Rybak. Rybak immediately informed me and I waited for Marak in his barracks.”
“That explains how two men knew that some soldier was in violation,” remarked Grefon impatiently. “What I asked was how the entire Corte knew that soldier was Marak.”
Beads of sweat formed on Koors’ brow. While he had been successful in getting Marak forced into slavery, he had erred in letting the knowledge out before sentencing. It was not a serious offense, but Grefon could take his yellow plume for it and lower him back to Squad Leader if he was angry enough. Koors contemplated lying about it and decided to just stretch the truth a little.
“I did discuss the matter with Squad Leader Rybak,” admitted Koors. “Perhaps some of the men overheard us.”
Lord Marshal Grefon again rose from his chair and paced to the window. He could strangle Marak for giving in to temptation and Koors for being such a belligerent fool. The worst part of it was that he could come out of this looking like a fool, himself.
“Both of you wait in the sitting room and send Squad Leader Rybak in,” ordered the Lord Marshal.
Squad Leader Rybak entered and closed the door before saluting.
“Squad Leader Rybak,” began Grefon, “how did the men in your squad learn of Marak’s plight?”
Rybak noticed the lack of the words ‘Squad Leader’ in the Lord Marshal’s question and smiled. Evidently, Grefon was still concerned about the wrist bands and was making it part of the same disciplinary action. It also sounded like Koors had probably tried to blame him for spreading the word. While Koors had been a golden ladder to the rank of Squad Leader, Rybak was not about to slide down that ladder for his Cortain. “Cortain Koors and I spoke of it in the barracks,” Rybak answered.
“Do you think the men overheard your conversation?” quizzed Grefon.
“Without a doubt, Lord Marshal,” answered Rybak. “They were all around us. Cortain Koors wanted everybody to know that he had finally succeeded in getting Marak. I can only assume that my men told the other squads in the Corte. I certainly did not.”
Grefon nodded and was about to dismiss Rybak when another question popped up. “On the morning of the first meeting day, did you hear me give orders to Cortain Koors?” he asked.
“Yes, Lord Marshal,” admitted Rybak. “I was present at the time.”
“Was it clear that my orders were for Marak to have slave detail?” queried the Lord Marshal.
“Yes, Lord Marshal,” answered Rybak. “Cortain Koors, complained that you were ruining his plan before he changed the orders.”
“Thank you, Squad Leader,” sighed Grefon. “You will not speak of this meeting unless I direct you to. You are dismissed. Send the others in as you leave.”
Rybak snapped a salute and quickly fled to the sitting room where he informed Marak and Koors to return to the study as he left. Marak and Koors entered the study and closed the door. The Lord Marshal opened a drawer in his desk and withdrew a sheet of paper and handed it to Cortain Koors.
“As you can see, Cortain,” declared Grefon, “I have a bit of a problem here. You have brought before me a man accused of violating his Vows of Service by talking with slaves. A man in the Army with a rank of Cortain is allowed that privilege. If you read the pronouncement in your hands, you will notice that its purpose is to elevate Squad Leader Marak to the rank of Cortain. It should be duly noted that both Lord Ridak and I signed this document the day before the first meeting day. While you may argue that Squad Leader Marak violated his Vows of Service, the accused may argue that Cortain Marak did not.”
Marak’s eyes grew wide as he followed the conversation. No one had ever made Cortain in six years that he knew of. The elation quickly subsided to regret. If only he had held out for a few more days, he would have been able to see his mother without this disciplinary action. He had already made his grand speech belittling the Lord Marshal’s Army and Grefon would be within his rights to tear up the pronouncement.
“But this is impossible,” squealed Koors. “It is not official, no pronouncement was made. He didn’t even know about his promotion when he leaped over the fence.”
“You are quite right about his knowing,” nodded the Lord Marshal. “Nevertheless, he was officially a Cortain at the time. The announcement was being held back until there was an opening for a Cortain. Lord Ridak is against expanding the Army to include another Corte, so the announcement of his promotion was put off until someone died or retired.”
“Well, that is certainly not going to happen any time soon,” smiled Koors. “If you do not plan to take any action on this matter, I am within my rights to petition Lord Ridak to rule on it. Whether he was a Cortain or a Squad Leader, he violated his Vows of Service because he had neither knowledge of his promotion nor orders which allowed him such liberties.”
Lord Marshal Grefon held up his hands in surrender. “If you are adamant about appealing to Lord Ridak, there is nothing I can do to stop you. In all fairness to the accused, though, he should be made aware that I issued orders to you placing him in the fields with the slaves on the day of the first meeting. Technically, his orders were to be with the slaves for the duration of the meeting days.”
“You did not specify which squad I was to use,” blurted Koors. “I must have misunderstood . . .” Koors looked at the smile on the Lord Marshal’s face and knew he was beaten. The way Rybak averted his eyes when he had left the Lord Marshal’s study flashed into Koors mind, and the Cortain knew he was in more trouble than Marak. Marak, at least, had some excuse, Koors did not. The Lord Marshal was never a stickler on how his orders were carried out as long as they were accomplished, but on this occasion he had specifically ordered Marak into the fields. Rybak had squealed and there was little Koors could do about it.
“Cortain Koors,” addressed Grefon, “you have given long years of service to this Clan . . . over twenty years . . . if I am not mistaken. Lord Ridak would probably not be as impressed with that as I am. I think an officer with your fine service to the Situ Clan should have an elegant retirement party, not a trial. Of course, nobody has made any accusations against you . . . yet.”
The Lord Marshal handed Koors writing materials and sighed. Koors stared at the paper in Grefon’s outstretched hand and pressed his lips tightly together. Koors took the paper and scribbled a letter of resignation as his eyes moistened.
Lord Marshal Grefon took the paper and read it. He signed the paper making the retirement official. “If I may make a suggestion to both of you,” Grefon remarked. “If you were to recommend your own replacement right now, Cortain Koors, word could be spread that you had done so. The real purpose of this meeting need not be known, only the outcome. Both of you will look better for it.”
With tears in his eyes, Koors went through the motions of recommending Marak as his replacement and then asked leave from the Lord Marshal. After Koors left, Grefon turned on Marak.
“You, soldier, have some rather strange ideas on how an army should be run,” declared Grefon. “I know you spoke from the heart and were ready to take your punishment, so I believe what you said is what you truly feel. It is by sheer luck only that you have escaped the ax man. Personally, I am glad. Officially, you are on notice for aberrant behavior. Next time bring your grievance to me before taking action of your own.”
Grefon walked over to the wall map and motioned for Marak to join him. “This is Fardale,” instructed the Lord Marshal. “You know from the meeting days of the problems they have. Your Corte is being assigned to Fardale on temporary terms. Your men are more experienced than Marshal Garouk’s and, frankly, I think he is underestimating the Chula. He has orders to wait for your arrival before baiting the cat people. I want you and your men to scout out this Sitari Valley and be the bait he is seeking.”
“Do we have any information on these cat people?” Marak asked.
“Nothing over what you have already heard,” clarified Grefon. “I am giving you two weeks to get your Corte in shape. You are going to need a new Squad Leader to replace yourself. Give me suggestions when you have them.”
“The man for the job is Botal, Lord Marshal,” Marak said unhesitatingly.
“Very well,” Grefon agreed. “Botal is a good choice. You may inform him, but I will make the formal announcement when your promotion and Koors’ retirement is announced. Send him to see me this morning. That’s all I have for you, Cortain. Congratulations.”
“Thank you, Lord Marshal,” smiled Marak for the first time since the meeting began. “I will endeavor to raise the proficiency of my Corte to the highest levels.”
Grefon nodded and Marak turned to leave when the Lord Marshal suddenly spoke. “Cortain, your first orders are to spend the morning with your mother. You may tell your Squad Leaders of your promotion. I suspect that Rybak will not be surprised and his squad should have taken over for Tagoro’s by now.”
“Thank you, Lord Marshal!,” exclaimed Cortain Marak. “Why do you say Rybak will not be surprised? I have always taken him for Koors’ man.”
“You have much to learn, Cortain,” chuckled the Lord Marshal. “Rybak’s kind has been around as long as there has been an army. Rybak is nobody’s man but his own. You should watch him closely.”
Marak felt on top of the world as he pranced out of the mansion and headed for the barren field. The Lord Marshal was correct about Rybak. The man didn’t blink an eye at hearing that Marak was now his Cortain and that he had been ordered to spend the morning with his mother.
As a Cortain, Marak was free to speak with his mother or any slave, but the Lord Marshal’s orders were still necessary in order to relieve her of her duties and for Marak to be able to take her away from the overseers. He gently led her across the creek to his personal practice field and started the encounter with a kiss and a long embrace. Glenda's tears rolled down her cheeks as Marak told her about his promotion. For hours the two talked and hugged, as they had not been able to for years.
After a couple of hours into the encounter a smiling, but sheepish, Tagoro entered the field with a picnic basket for the two of them and a message from Lord Marshal Grefon. The message stated that Lord Marshal was amending his orders and Marak should utilize the entire day with his mother. Enclosed in the pouch with the message was a single lituk blossom for Glenda. The day passed quickly for both Marak and Glenda and it was long dark by the time Marak escorted his mother to the slave compound. Marak went immediately to his keepbox and withdrew his father’s necklace and put it on. He remembered his vow to her, which he made the night he sneaked into the slave compound, as he fell asleep.
* * *
Marshal Garouk looked out the window at the rising sun as Lord Lashendo paced the floor of his study.
“I don’t care what they said in Lituk Valley,” the Lord ranted. “They treated us like we did not know how to handle our own affairs. You said your plan was solid. Why should we wait for some young pups from Lord Marshal Grefon to come help us out of our problem?”
Marshal Garouk shook his head. “The only reason to wait is because they told us to wait,” he stated.
“That is not entirely correct,” whirled Lord Lashendo. “The Lord Marshal ordered us not to make any further attempts at clearing Sitari Valley. Although I bristle at being given orders by anyone other than Lord Ridak himself, the fact is that nobody told us not to spring our trap. The Lord Marshal said he planned on sending men to reinforce us, but he did not say that we had to sit and wait for them.”
“What exactly are you proposing?” questioned Marshal Garouk.
“If Lord Marshal Grefon’s men come in here and your plan works,” explained Lord Lashendo, “they will get all of the credit and we will look like incompetent fools. If, for some reason, it doesn’t work, it will be because our plan was incomplete or foolhardy. It is a situation in which we cannot win. The only way we come out of this looking good is to solve our own problems and you already have the plan in place. I say we institute the plan immediately. Send a squad into the Sitari Valley. No lumbermen, no wagons, just a squad of soldiers.”
“A lone squad will be wiped out,” protested Marshal Garouk. “If we wait for Grefon’s men, we can send them into Sitari Valley and not worry about the losses. Who cares about the credit for success or failure? The end result is that we have the valley and the cat people are dead.”
“I care about the credit!” screamed Lord Lashendo. “I can not just apply for another job as Lord of somebody else’s estate. If I look bad here, Lord Ridak will replace me. He will replace you, too, in case that makes a difference to you. The point is that you have presented me with a plan for solving our problem. I am still the Lord of Fardale and I have accepted your plan. I am ordering you to institute your plan without delay. There is no more discussion needed on this matter. When you balance a suggestion from Lord Marshal Grefon against my direct order, you really do not have a choice. Get the defenses set up and choose a squad to go out to Sitari Valley.”
“As you command, My Lord,” Marshal Garouk recited.
The Marshal of Fardale walked out of the study trying to choose which squad he would send to their death. Getting the defenses ready would occupy his mind and keep the rest of the men from brooding on what they all knew would happen to the squad sent out. He had actually proposed the reinforcements to Lord Marshal Grefon in the hopes that the Lituk Valley men would not be aware of what waited for them when they left for the Valley of Death, as the Fardale men had been calling it.