“So it is a clan that wishes to hide these attacks from even their own people?” questioned Lord Marak. “Why?”
“That is what Fisher and I have been discussing,” answered Yenga. “The only plausible reason that we can think of is the troops that are doing the ambushing are not from the local estate.”
“You are saying that a large clan is attacking us,” Lord Marak asked, “but they are using troops from a different estate? Why would they do that if they have an estate close to the ambush site?”
“Loyalty,” answered the Lord Marshal. “Typically, the troops under the direct control of a lord marshal can be counted on to remain quiet about their missions. The local troops might gossip too much, and the ambushes would become known to others.”
“So a lord sends troops to an outlying estate with special orders from the lord marshal of the clan,” interjected Fisher. “The local estate will house them and feed them, but will not interfere in any other way. The local marshal would not even be informed of what their mission is.”
“That does not help a great deal,” frowned Lord Marak. “There are many clans in Khadora that have multiple estates.”
“We can narrow it down,” declared Fisher as he rose and walked to a wall map of Khadora. “We now know the location of the attacks. The ambushers were foolish to allow one of your men to escape.”
“Where was the attack?” asked Marak as he walked to the map.
“At the foot of the Three Sisters Mountains,” Fisher said as he pointed to a spot on the map. “The road is fairly well traveled, but the ambush was timed well. Netura was away from the squad at the time. He was selecting a camping spot for the night. Few travel the road at night, and journeys are normally planned in the mornings, or at least scheduled so that they can be completed by nightfall. Only Imperial troops would travel the road at night. The road was deserted.”
“So they knew the caravan was coming,” nodded Lord Marak. “I suspect they had scouts checking its progress during the day.”
“They may have,” interrupted Lord Marshal Yenga, “but these troops would not be sitting idle at the local estate waiting for your caravans. They would have to know approximately what day the caravan would be passing through the area.”
“But how could they possibly know that?” questioned the lord of the Torak clan. “We do not run our caravans on a schedule. We do not know the day of our departure ourselves until we decide it is leaving.”
“It is possible that they have scouts several days out from the ambush site,” shrugged Yenga.
“More likely,” stated Fisher, “they have someone telling them when a caravan leaves Fardale. That is certainly how I would do it. It would be a simple matter then to know the day that the caravan would pass any particular spot on the route.”
“You understand what you are implying?” inquired Lord Marak.
“That you have a spy in your ranks,” nodded Fisher. “I know that you do not wish to hear such theories, Marak, but that is the most likely of scenarios.”
“Have any other caravans been ambushed besides our Torak caravans?” questioned Lord Marak.
“None,” Fisher shook his head. “A Sorgan caravan passed the ambush site the day before yours. I should also point out that the caravan was not stolen. They destroyed it. Intentionally. This was not done for someone’s profit as much as it was done to harm you.”
“Destroyed?” echoed Lord Marak.
“Yes,” replied Lord Marshal Yenga. “I suspect the attack site was well cleaned up before morning, too. Your caravans are supposed to simply disappear.”
“What clans have estates in the area?” Marak asked with rage almost detectable in his voice.
“Fisher and I have been going over that,” answered Yenga. “There are at least a dozen possibilities. And that is only counting the estates that are close to the ambush site. We really need to include any estate that could effectively move their troops to the attack area without being seen on a road. That adds another dozen clans.”
“Too many choices,” Lord Marak said as he began to pace the floor. “We must narrow it down some more. Fisher, can you snoop around and see if any estates are regularly hosting troops of their clan from another estate?”
“It is already on my list,” nodded the spy. “Such information will not be easy to come by, and it may take me some time. What of your next caravan? You cannot halt shipments until I report back.”
“We could send the watula in a caravan under another clan’s colors,” suggested Lord Marshal Yenga. “You have other clans that owe allegiance to you.”
Lord Marak was silent for some time as he stopped pacing and stood staring at the map. Finally, he sat down in his chair and waved for the others to sit down.
“How large an escort did Lord Sevrin bring with him to the meeting?” asked Lord Marak.
“Just a squad of Ragatha soldiers,” answered the lord marshal.
“And how large does Netura estimate the ambushers to be?” inquired the lord.
“He suspected at least two squads,” replied Yenga, “probably a corte.”
“That is what I would expect to make the ambush easy,” nodded Lord Marak. “When Lord Sevrin leaves Fardale, I want him to leave with two cortes of Ragatha troops in addition to his squad. We should have spare Ragatha uniforms at Woodville. It used to be a Ragatha estate.”
“The uniforms will be no problem,” nodded Yenga. “What do you want me to order the two cortes to do?”
“I am not sure yet,” admitted Lord Marak, “but if you are correct about a spy in our midst, then I want some troops smuggled out of Fardale. This meeting of the lords is the perfect time to do it. Also, make sure that we have a mage who is capable of using an air tunnel among the soldiers.”
“Make sure that Lord Sevrin is the last lord to leave,” suggested Fisher. “We do not want the other lords to notice his escort.”
“You suspect one of my lords is the spy?” asked Lord Marak as his eyes narrowed.
“The average clan member does not have the consistent capability of getting word out to the attackers,” shrugged Fisher. “If there is a spy, it is from someone high up in the clans that owe their allegiance to you.”
“Make it so,” Lord Marak said to Lord Marshal Yenga. “Fisher, find yourself a Torak uniform quickly. I want you to be one of the guards in the meeting room today. Observe everyone, and we will meet again afterwards.”
“I have a uniform with me,” grinned Fisher as Lord Marak gave him a puzzled look. “There is one other thing that you should be aware of. Lord Marak and the Torak clan are the talk of Khadoratung. Everyone is trying to figure out how you came into power here in Fardale, obtained Woodville from the Ragatha clan, and two other estates from the Situ clan. As you are aware, people in the capital do not normally think of clans this far away as anything worth talking about, so it should cause you some concern that you are the topic of their conversations.”
“That is troubling,” agreed Lord Marak. “All of my clans together are nothing compared to the rest of Khadora. Why do you suppose they have taken notice of dealings out here on the frontier?”
“Primarily your abolition of slavery,” shrugged Fisher, “but I feel that there is more to it than that. I think some important people have taken notice of you, and that is not healthy in Khadora. Power has always resided in Khadoratung. The Emperor and the Lords’ Council rule this country. The Assembly of Lords really has no power at all. I would advise you to avoid the assembly meeting later this month.”
“You think there is a risk to me by going to Khadoratung?” questioned Lord Marak.
“Absolutely,” affirmed Fisher. “Most people in Khadora would not have known Lord Ridak’s name if they heard it. Merchants and lower officials mention your name on the streets of the capital. Someone powerful is out to get you. Stay away until something else grabs their attention.”
“I will consider your warning, Fisher,” sighed Lord Marak, “but you know that I
do not easily shy away from confrontations. Get into your uniform, and hear what you can in the meeting room.”
Fisher nodded as he left the office. Lord Marak left shortly after Fisher and met Kasa in the hallway outside the lord marshal’s office.
“Master Malafar’s idea sounds quite promising,” the bursar said. “I think I might even know a place in Chantise where we can house it.”
“Excellent,” Lord Marak answered distractedly. “Set it up, but it is not to be associated with the Torak clan in any way.”
“Understood,” agreed Kasa. “Everyone is gathering in the meeting room. Now would be a good time for you to sign those contracts.”
“I think they need to wait,” Marak shook his head. “In fact, do not enter into any more contracts until we have had a chance to discuss prices.”
“Prices?” echoed the bursar. “There is little we can do to change prices on the contracts.”
“Why not?” questioned the lord of the Torak clan.
“We are not the only seller of watula in Khadora,” explained Kasa. “If our price is too low, we simply will lose potential profits, and if it is too high, nobody will buy from us. We do not have much room to play with prices.”
“What percentage of the Khadoran watula harvest do we control between the Torak clan and the Sorgan clan?” inquired Lord Marak.
“About twenty percent,” replied Kasa. “Eighty percent is grown in the Imperial Valley between Khadoratung and Chantise.”
“And haven’t you told me before that our quality is much better than the other watula producers?” prompted Lord Marak.
“Yes, it is,” nodded Kasa, “but that will matter little if our price is too high. We need to control the market before we can dictate prices.”
“What would the other producers do if we increased our prices by ten percent?” Marak asked. “Would the other producers seek to sell more watula than they have? Or would they match our price and seek greater profit?”
“I am not sure,” puzzled Kasa. “If you changed the prices of only the Torak crop, the other clans would ignore it and we would be hard pressed to sell our watula, but if the Sorgan prices also went up, the other clans might seek the higher profit. I really don’t know.”
“Think about it during the meeting,” grinned Lord Marak. “We will talk about it again.”
Lord Marak turned and strode into the meeting room. Kasa hurried after him as he went to the head of the table and stood looking around at the assembled guests. All conversations died when Lord Marak entered the room and the lords, who all owed allegiance to Lord Marak, looked to him with anticipation. Lord Marak smiled inwardly as he saw Fisher slip into the room and close the doors.
“Thank you all for coming here today,” smiled Lord Marak as he addressed the assembled lords. “I apologize for not being available to greet each of you individually, but other matters demanded my attention. In fact, another one of my caravans was ambushed.”
The room was abuzz with whispers and murmurings when Lord Marak mentioned the ambush. He let it continue for a short while and then brought order to the meeting.
“I called you all here today to get news of how your estates are prospering,” Lord Marak said. “I would like to hear from each of you and then we can discuss things that affect all of us. If you would begin, Lord Rybak.”
For several hours, the lords of the Torak, Sorgan, Ragatha, Situ, and Litari clans gave reports on the status of their estates. Each of the clans had sworn Vows of Service to Lord Marak and were, in effect, one large clan. Lord Marak had kept the identities of the clans separate, and the rest of Khadora was unaware of the arrangements. This maneuver allowed Lord Marak to control five seats in the Assembly of Lords. When the reports were completed, Lord Marak addressed the lords.
“This month is the annual Assembly of Lords,” he began. “I have never been to one of these meetings before, and I will probably be at a loss as to what proper procedures are. Any hints of proper decorum from those of you who have attended it in the past would be most welcomed.”
“I would advise against you attending the Assembly of Lords,” stated Lord Burdine of the Litari clan. “The Assembly has little real power, and I have heard your name mentioned more than once from merchants calling upon me. This is not a good sign, Lord Marak. One rule in Khadora that is never spoken of, but one that we must all live by, is do not get noticed too much. Small lords are easily crushed in Khadora, and with no disrespect meant, you are a small lord. Even if it was known that you controlled all five of these clans, you would still be a gnat on the face of Khadora.”
“Nonsense,” blustered Lord Quavry of the Sorgan clan. “I have not heard any such inquiries, and I deal with a great many merchants. “Besides, I am sure that you would like to impress upon the rest of Khadora the need for us to rid ourselves of our slaves. I would be happy to join my escort with yours if you think there may be problems.”
Lord Rybak, like Lord Marak, had never attended a meeting of the Assembly of Lords, so the leader of the Torak clan looked expectantly to Lord Sevrin of the Ragatha clan.
“Lord Burdine’s words are accurate,” declared Lord Sevrin. “There would be great risk to you in attending the Assembly of Lords. However, I think there is much to be gained by you going. As you know, I was skeptical of swearing Vows of Service to you, Lord Marak. Your ideas seemed ridiculous, especially the abolition of slavery. I have learned since that time that your ideas are exactly what Khadora needs to prosper. As you heard when I gave my report, my estates have blossomed under your new rules. I think a case should be made in the Assembly of Lords for the abolition of all slavery in Khadora. I am willing to make that case for you, should you feel that the personal danger to yourself is too great, but I cannot think of a better spokesman than the person who had the vision in the first place.”
“Do you think there is a chance that the Assembly of Lords would actually listen to such an appeal, Lord Sevrin?” asked Lord Marak.
“Listen?” mused Lord Sevrin. “They will listen. I doubt that they will agree, but I have found that if you keep hammering on the same subject each year, eventually you can get a decent chance to make your point. We have to start somewhere.”
“You will be sticking your nose in a bee’s hive,” Lord Burdine shook his head. “I agree with Lord Sevrin’s sentiments, but I think he underestimates the danger. The Lords’ Council is not something to mess with, and they do keep a close eye on the Assembly of Lords. It is really the Lords’ Council that sets the rules. By speaking openly in the Assembly of Lords about abolishing slavery, you will be poking a stick in the eye of each of the members of the Lords’ Council. Their estates are the largest and the most dependent upon slaves. They will see you as a threat to their way of life.”
“Perhaps Lord Burdine is correct,” Lord Sevrin admitted. “I have gotten my points across before by being stubborn and continually raising the issues, but slavery may very well be a special case. I am afraid that I did not think through the danger inherent in such a speech.”
“Lord Marak is not a whimpering lord who runs and hides from danger,” chided Lord Quavry. “Besides, he would reside in the Imperial Palace for the duration of the Assembly of Lords meeting days. None would dare to touch him in that setting. There is no safer place in all of Khadora.”
Lord Marak raised his hand for silence as his eyes scanned the faces around the table. He thought back on the long road that had brought him to his position of relative prominence in the frontier of Khadora. Finally, he nodded, more to himself than to anyone else.
“I will be going to the Assembly of Lords,” declared Lord Marak. “The reforms that we have started out here on the frontier are too important to be ignored. I do expect each of you to support me when I speak to the other lords in Khadoratung. One last item before we adjourn. I do not want any contracts negotiated between now and when I issue new pricing instructions.”
“How long will that be?” asked Lord Rybak of the Situ clan.
“I am not sure,” answered Lord Marak. “I will let you know when I have decided.”
The assembled lords all looked to Lord Marak with questioning gazes, but the lord of the Torak clan left the table and the meeting room. He walked swiftly to his private office and sat behind his desk. He went through the stack of contracts that Kasa had left on his desk, but his mind was on other things. Thirty minutes later, Fisher quietly entered the office and closed the door.
“What did you think?” asked Lord Marak.
“Too early to tell,” answered Fisher, “but I think Lord Quavry was anxious for you to attend the meeting, and not for the same reasons as Lord Sevrin.”
“I doubt that Lord Quavry has ever fully embraced my reforms,” nodded Lord Marak. “How do we find out for sure?”
“We watch and listen,” shrugged Fisher.
“Not good enough,” declared Lord Marak. “If Lord Quavry is working against me, I want him replaced before the Assembly of Lords meeting.”
“So you really are planning on going,” Fisher said with surprise. “I thought you were just fishing for reactions.”
“I must go,” Lord Marak stated. “Lord Sevrin is correct about the need to constantly raise the question before those who rule Khadora. A great evil is coming, Fisher. Khadora cannot stand against it if we are divided.”
“Perhaps preparing Khadora for our enemy is more important than your reforms,” suggested the spy. “Perhaps you should not pursue the slavery issue.”
“I see the uniting of Khadora and slavery as the same thing,” retorted the Torak lord. “We cannot be a united people when some of us own the others. Besides, we will need battle mages to survive. I do not know what kind of creature Veltar was, but there is no doubt that he was a magician.”
“You think he was not human?” inquired Fisher.
“He disappeared when he was struck down,” sighed Lord Marak, “much like the hellsouls in Angragar. I do not know if he was human or not, but he was magical.”
“I will be in Khadoratung when the Assembly of Lords meets,” Fisher said. “You may need my help there. Be sure to wear your Qubari armor.”
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