Winged Warrior fl-7

by Richard S. Tuttle

  Lady Mystic put the basket down and waved her hand before the door, but it had no effect. She frowned and reached out for the door handle. The door was unlocked, and it opened to her touch. She frowned as she realized that Vand’s goons had even destroyed her spell on the door. She kicked the door open and retrieved the basket.

  As she entered the laboratory, she stopped and stared at the mess. Broken glass covered the floor and powders were sprinkled about. She stared at the stains on the floor where the liquids had already evaporated. She cursed again as she placed the vase and the basket on the empty table,

  The first thing Lady Mystic did was to grab a broom. She started sweeping the debris into a pile. When she had it all gathered into a large pile, she went to the kitchen and retrieved the sheet of metal that she used to pick up sweepings. As she bent down to sweep the debris onto the metal sheet, she felt a presence behind her. She dropped both the broom and the metal sheet and whirled around to see who was there.

  “You look like you could use some help,” smiled Xavo. “May I enter?”

  “You are already in,” frowned Lady Mystic. “What do you want this time?”

  “Nothing, actually,” smiled Xavo. “I just happened to be passing by and saw your door open. I thought I would check up on you and see if you are alright.”

  “Why do I have trouble believing you, Xavo?” asked Lady Mystic. “Could it be because you have never offered help to anyone in your entire life? Or is it perhaps because I am too stupid to understand what you are really after? What exactly do you want, Xavo?”

  “My, we are brutally candid this day,” replied the Disciple of Vand. “Is my reputation really that bad? Does everyone think of me the way that you do?”

  “I cannot speak for others,” shrugged Lady Mystic as she bent to continue her cleaning task, “but my impression is that you don’t have a friend in the world. Now, why would that be? I mean you being such a nice and helpful person as you are?”

  “Perhaps no one has ever really known me?” grinned Xavo. “Be honest with yourself, Lady Mystic. Have you ever put forth the effort to get to know me before you decided that I was a worm?”

  “No,” laughed Lady Mystic. “I do not need to eat food to tell it is spoiled when I can smell the decay. I would like to tell you to go away because I am too busy to play games with you, but we both know that that is not believable. Just tell me what it is that you want, and we can stop playing this silly game. Either I will give it to you, or I won’t. It is that simple.”

  “Ah,” sighed Xavo, “if only life were really that simple. I want your heart, Lady Mystic.”

  “Not today,” Lady Mystic shook her head as she rose and dumped the debris into a bucket. “Maybe tomorrow you can have it, but today I feel like continuing on with life, and I need all of my organs. Tomorrow? Who knows? I may decide to let you have it. Why mine?” she asked after a moment’s hesitation. “You could have one from any slave. Why must it be mine?”

  “That is not what I meant,” chuckled Xavo. “I did not mean it literally. I want your love, not your heart.”

  Lady Mystic dropped the sheet of metal and stared at Xavo.

  “What?” she asked with a look on incredulity. “The flowers? The basket? Were they from you?”

  “They were,” nodded Xavo. “I thought that you would appreciate them.”

  “I did,” Lady Mystic said haltingly. “I mean I do. I just don’t understand. Why?”

  “Because I love you,” shrugged Xavo.

  Chapter 18

  Assembly of Lords

  “There are female screams coming from the Pikata chambers,” declared Ophia.

  “Are you positive it is from the Pikata chambers?” asked Emperor Marak as he gazed up at the stars. “These chimneys rise from a lot of fireplaces.”

  “I heard the woman say Lord Rymaka’s name,” assured the air mage. “I am positive.”

  “You have your chance, Marshal Chack,” stated Emperor Marak. “Do what must be done.”

  Marshal Chack nodded and ran towards the door, while the Emperor paced the roof.

  “Do I have to continue listening?” asked Ophia with a hurtful look. “Whatever he is doing to that woman must horrible. Her screams will haunt me for days.”

  “No,” the Emperor replied as he stopped pacing. “Drop the air tunnel. We both have a busy day tomorrow. Let’s leave this problem with Marshal Chack and go to bed. It is out of our hands now.”

  * * *

  The Imperial soldier knocked loudly on the door of the Vessi chambers. When there was no answer, he knocked even louder. Eventually he heard loud voices from within the chamber and the door opened a crack to allow a soldier to peer out.

  “What is it?” the soldier asked groggily.

  “The presence of Lord Sebba is required,” stated the Imperial soldier.

  “Is it morning yet?” the Vessi soldier asked.

  “It is,” nodded the soldier, “although the sun has not yet risen. The matter is urgent. Notify your lord. We will wait for him.”

  The door closed and reopened a few minutes later. Lord Sebba stood in the open doorway looking as groggy as his soldier had sounded.

  “What is the meaning of this disturbance?” Lord Sebba asked with annoyance.

  “Your presence is required,” stated the soldier. “We are to escort you.”

  “To where?” frowned the lord.

  “To a meeting of the Lords’ Council,” answered the Imperial soldier. “They do not like to be kept waiting.”

  “One minute,” scowled the lord as he retreated into the chamber.

  Lord Sebba returned in a few minutes. He had obviously struggled into his uniform for the meeting. The soldiers escorted the Vessi lord to the Lords’ Council chamber where the council was already in session. Lord Sebba was summoned to stand at the table by Lord Kiamesh who was chairing the meeting.

  “Does the Lords’ Council have so much work that they must meet through the night?” scowled Lord Sebba as he stood looking at the six seated lords.

  “We are early risers when the situation demands,” retorted Lord Kiamesh. “Today’s schedule will be shortened by the Assembly of Lords. We must meet beforehand to accomplish everything that needs to be done today.”

  “And for what purpose am I here?” asked Lord Sebba.

  “To resolve your boundary dispute,” declared Lord Kiamesh.

  “Boundary dispute?” echoed the Vessi lord. “I have filed no protest over my stated boundaries.”

  “Your boundaries, nevertheless, are in dispute,” interjected Lord Quilo. “In fact, all of the territory gained by the Vessi clan during the last year is in dispute.”

  “By whom?” demanded the Vessi lord. “None of those clans even exist any more. There is no one to dispute my boundaries.”

  “It is our understanding that your gains were accomplished in coordination with certain Jiadin men,” declared Lord Patel. “In fact, the vast majority of your forces were Jiadin.”

  “What of it?” frowned Lord Sebba. “I can use whoever I want to use to fight my wars. There is no law in Khadora that forbids it. Lord Samert hired Jiadin warriors. What is the problem?”

  “Hired?” asked Lord Faliman. “Do you have proof of payment?”

  Lord Sebba frowned deeply at the six lords. His eyes scanned the faces of each of them and found no humor present. He wondered what they were after. He had no receipt for any payments to the Jiadin, and he was sure that they did not expect him to, so what were they really after?

  “I would have to search for them,” Lord Sebba stalled. “Perhaps when I return to my estate I will find what you need to settle this matter.”

  “I am afraid that time does not allow such a luxury,” sighed Lord Kiamesh.

  “Perhaps he could leave right now?” suggested Lord Jamarat, appearing to be helpful.

  “I could leave right after the Assembly of Lords meeting,” offered Lord Sebba.

  “I am afraid that this must be resolve
d before the Assembly of Lords,” stated Lord Kiamesh.

  “Before the meeting?” balked Lord Sebba. “That is impossible. What are you really after? Are you trying to steal my land? Who would get it? One of you?”

  “How dare you besmirch our honor?” snapped Lord Quilo. “The land that you call yours was stolen from the rightful owners. While it is beyond the possibility of returning it to those owners, we can rightfully attribute it to a new clan represented by a member of the majority of the conquering force.”

  “The Jiadin?” Lord Sebba’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. “You would take land from a Khadoran lord and give it to those savages?”

  “Those savages,” retorted Lord Chenowith, “would be more loyal to Khadora than you are, Lord Sebba. They at least are not conspiring to destroy the government of Khadora.”

  Lord Sebba’s jaw dropped and his forehead started perspiring. He once again looked at the faces of the lords and realized that they were about to destroy him. Within an instant, everything became clear to the Vessi lord. Somehow the Lords’ Council had found out about the motion to be presented to the Assembly of Lords, and they aimed to halt it before it happened. He quickly thought about his option. He believed that the Lords’ Council had the legal authority to do what they threatened to do, and he had no doubt that they would follow through on the threat. Worse than losing all of the land his father had gained, was the fact that all of his neighbors would be Jiadin savages. The Jiadin had threatened to return and extract revenge on the Vessi after their defeat at Balomar. His life would be forfeit within a fortnight. He had to think quickly.

  “Your silence is disturbing to me,” Lord Chenowith stated. “It makes me think that you are trying come up with something to say that you hope we will believe. Unfortunately, I get the feeling that you will try to deceive us. That would be a mistake.”

  “I will not deceive you,” promised Lord Sebba as his mind whirled seeking away out of his dilemma.

  “Are there receipts for payment to the Jiadin?” asked Lord Faliman.

  “No,” answered Lord Sebba. “My father did not pay the Jiadin. They were supposed to share in the spoils, but not until they conquered all of Khadora.”

  “That is the understanding we got from your cohorts,” declared Lord Kiamesh. “Please continue.”

  It was at that moment that Lord Sebba noticed the stack of papers on the table. It was obvious that the Lords’ Council had been in session for some time this morning. Add to that their mention of cohorts, and Lord Sebba knew his options had run out.

  “Look,” Lord Sebba pleaded, “my father made some foolish choices in his life. I am willing to do what I must to rectify those wrongs, but you must not let my neighboring lands get into the hands of the Jiadin. That would be sentencing me to death for the wrongs of my father. I will give up my claim to the lands if you will promise me that it will not go to the Jiadin. What more can I offer?”

  “What we are after,” Lord Chenowith said calmly, “is a patriotic Khadoran. This country has a hard fight ahead of it, and we need everyone fighting together. That can include you if you elect to reform.”

  “Tell me what I must do,” nodded Lord Sebba.

  “A patriot would never be involved in plots to overthrow the government,” stated Lord Quilo.

  “I will disavow any cooperation with the plotters,” Lord Sebba quickly promised. “I will even detail everything that I know about them. You must believe me when I say that this was not my idea. I have no border disputes to haggle over. I have no Chula neighbors. My only reason for getting involved was a foolish desire for revenge for the defeat of my father at Balomar. I can see now that I have been looking at things from the wrong perspective.”

  “Can you really put that need for revenge behind you?” asked Lord Patel. “Can we really believe that you will become a patriotic Khadoran? Tell me why I should believe such a thing.”

  “I can only offer my word,” replied Lord Sebba. “If there was any other way that I could assure you of my intentions, I would gladly do so. As I said earlier, I will agree to forfeit the new lands as long as they are not given to the Jiadin. What else can I offer to show my sincerity? Tell me, and I will do anything.”

  “Anything?” frowned Lord Chenowith. “I truly wonder if you mean even that?”

  “Try me,” begged Lord Sebba. “I truly do understand how foolish I have been.”

  “I think he means it,” offered Lord Jamarat. “We should let him keep the new lands.”

  Lord Sebba’s eyes opened wide, and a hint of a smile appeared on his face, but that was soon reversed when Lord Quilo spoke.

  “I doubt his sincerity,” declared Lord Quilo. “I think he would say anything right now, but change his mind on his way out of the door.”

  “That would not do,” Lord Patel shook his head. “No, he must swear in some manner that guarantees his adherence to the laws of Khadora.”

  “I will swear in any way that you desire,” offered Lord Sebba. “State the vow that you want me to utter, and I will pledge it here and now. Do not destroy me for my father’s faults.”

  “There is one vow that would solve this problem,” Lord Kiamesh mused softly.

  “Let me utter it,” pleaded Lord Sebba.

  “Very well,” Lord Chenowith stated definitively. “It is the only way to resolve this matter. Send for the Emperor.”

  Lord Jamarat rose and went to the door to send a guard to get the Emperor while Lord Sebba looked around in confusion.

  “Why the Emperor?” the Vessi lord asked hesitantly.

  “For you to issue your Vows of Service to him,” Lord Chenowith replied curtly.

  “Vows of Service?” echoed Lord Sebba. “But I am a clan lord. It is not possible.”

  “It is not only possible, but quite common these days,” smiled Lord Patel.

  “I told you that he was just saying what we wanted to hear,” grumbled Lord Quilo.

  “No, no,” Lord Sebba shook his head vigorously as he feared the offer would be rescinded. “I was just confused. I did not know that such a practice was even possible. I have no objections. I will say the vows.”

  The room lapsed into silence as everyone waited for Emperor Marak to appear. They did not have to wait long.

  “Thank you for coming so quickly, Emperor Marak,” greeted Lord Chenowith. “We require your assistance on a matter before this council. Lord Sebba of the Vessi clan wishes to offer his Vows of Service to you.”

  “Greetings, Lord Sebba,” Emperor Marak said with a smile. “It pleases me to see such a patriotic leader such as yourself vow to come to Khadora’s aid. Do you understand that your Vows of Service to me will have the same effect as that of a clansman to his lord?”

  “I understand that now,” Lord Sebba nodded nervously.

  “And do you offer these Vows of Service freely and of your own will?” asked the Emperor.

  “I do,” the Vessi lord nodded.

  “Very well,” smiled the Emperor. “Recite the vows.”

  Lord Sebba made the ritual recitation of vows. When he was done, Emperor Marak embraced the Vessi lord and smiled.

  “I will make arrangements to visit your estates as soon as possible to receive the Vows of Service from each of your people,” stated the Emperor. “Perhaps we can make a festival of it and get to know each other better? Does that sound agreeable?”

  Lord Sebba frowned as he had not anticipated his people giving Vows of Service to the Emperor, but he nodded agreeably.

  “Excellent,” smiled Emperor Marak. “If you would excuse us now, Lord Sebba, I have some critical things to discuss with the Lords’ Council as long as I am here. We will speak again after the Assembly of Lords meeting.”

  Lord Sebba nodded as he backed out of the room. The Emperor waited for the door to close before pulling up a chair and sitting down.

  “I am only sorry that I missed the show,” grinned Emperor Marak. “That was three for three this morning. You lords must make a tremendous i
mpression when you work together.”

  “It was Lord Chenowith’s idea to get them all to swear Vows of Service to you,” chuckled Lord Patel. “It was easier than we thought. They were more afraid of having the Jiadin as neighbors than they were of us. I suppose the Jiadin felt betrayed when everything fell apart at Balomar.”

  “Sometimes that is the price of playing with demons,” shrugged the Torak. “They invited the Jiadin in for the spoils of war and then they were chased out without compensation. It is just as well that they do not know that the Jiadin have been tamed.”

  “It is close to the time for part two of this day’s activities,” declared Lord Quilo. “We just have time for a meal before the Assembly of Lords begins.”

  “Did you locate Bursar Wicado of the Pikata?” asked Lord Faliman.

  “I did,” nodded the Torak. “I told him that he was the acting lord of the Pikata clan. We had a nice talk while I waited for you to finish with Lord Sebba. I like the man. I think if it is possible, I would like to see him take over full control of the Pikata clan.”

  “It will be possible,” frowned Lord Jamarat. “The woman that Rymaka was torturing died. The guard informed me when I sent him to get you.”

  Emperor Marak’s face twisted with rage. He wanted to shout orders to have Rymaka hung immediately, but he kept his mouth shut. The Lords’ Council did not need any orders to see that justice was delivered to the Pikata lord. Without a word, he turned and walked out of the chamber.

  * * *

  The three rebel clans from the southern frontier were single estate clans. As such, those three lords sat together towards the rear of the chamber when the Assembly of Lords meeting began. Lord Padro sweated a bit as he watched the lords filing in for the meeting. He was excited about striking a blow to Emperor Marak and his reforms.

  “Are you sure about these eastern lords?” Lord Woroman asked softly. “Lord Ratwa just walked by us and did not even glance your way.”