Young Lord of Khadora

by Richard S. Tuttle

  Marak waited while the Squad Leaders formed their men. Everyone was curious about the reason for the stop when they were so close to Fardale. Marak waited patiently for the group to settle down.

  “Situ warriors,” Marak began, “we are soon to enter Fardale, our new home. We are going to be facing some difficult times in the next few months and it is important that we start out on the right foot. Every one of you heard Lord Ridak’s pronouncement when we left Lituk Valley. The same cannot be said for our friends in Fardale. I expect all of you to form a solid backbone of support for me during these troubled times. I need your support.”

  Marak scanned the faces before him and wondered if anyone would raise objections. Most, he knew, would readily embrace his plans for Fardale, but even one objection could mean trouble.

  “Although you were read part of the pronouncement,” Marak continued, “you did not hear it all. Lord Ridak has granted me, Lord Marak, absolute authority over Fardale, of which you are now a part. To facilitate my absolute authority, each of you will now offer your Vows of Service to Lord Marak. These Vows will replace your Vows of Service to Lord Ridak.”

  Squad Leader Rybak saluted and stepped forward. “Cortain,” addressed Rybak, “my men have given Vows of Service to Lord Ridak. We are Situ warriors and we can not replace the Vows we have already uttered.”

  Marak smiled when he saw confusion on the faces of Rybak’s men. Rybak had not discussed this protest with his men. He undoubtedly had prior knowledge of the clause from talking with Lord Marshal Grefon, but he did not expect Marak to move so quickly.

  “Would you violate your Vows to Lord Ridak, Squad Leader Rybak?” posed Marak.

  “Never!” exclaimed Squad Leader Rybak. “That is my point. We can not take your Vows because it would violate our Vows to Lord Ridak.”

  “Did Lord Ridak assign you to my command and order you to obey me in Fardale?” Marak asked.

  “Yes, Cortain, of course, but . . . ”

  “Did Lord Ridak make me Lord Marak of Fardale and specifically state that I should exercise absolute authority over everyone under my command?” Marak pushed.

  “Well, yes, Cortain, but . . . ” Rybak said nervously.

  “And doesn’t absolute authority mean that all previous Vows of my subjects are negated, with the knowledge of the Lord issuing the pronouncement?” smiled Lord Marak.

  Rybak knew about the clause in the pronouncement, but he never considered that it also applied to him. He considered himself part of the command from Lituk Valley, not a member of the Fardale contingent, but even as a soldier on temporary assignment, he was subject to the rule of the Lord of the estate he was stationed at. Marak was correct. The only way that Rybak could get out of issuing the Vows of Service to Marak was to violate the Vows to Lord Ridak and that would mean slavery.

  “Yes, Lord Marak,” bowed Rybak. “I am grateful for your explanation.”

  Rybak moved back into position with his men and Lord Marak scanned the assembly looking for any other signs of dissent. Seeing none, he began the procedure of allowing each man to step forward and recite his Vows of Service to Lord Marak. The whole ceremony was over in minutes and Marak addressed them again.

  “The Vows you have just taken,” stated Marak, “put you in my service until such time as I deem fit to release you. Every person in Fardale must take these same Vows. Until everyone has, none of you are permitted to speak of them. When we arrive I will go directly to the Meeting Chamber. You men will begin the process of bringing everyone into the Meeting Chamber to recite their Vows. No one will be overlooked and no one is to have foreknowledge of the nature of the Vows. Squad Leader Rybak and his men will remain in the Meeting Chamber with me. Squad Leader Tagoro will lead people into the Chamber and Squad Leader Botal will manage those exiting from the Chamber. Squad Leader Zorkil, you will be in charge of the mansion staff. I want to process them first and then the Army. Are there any questions?”

  There were no questions and the Corte mounted their horses and continued the journey to Fardale. Marak continued pressing Zorkil for information about Fardale. Zorkil noted that he was impressed with Lord Marak’s absolute authority and further declared that there would be few objections from the people at Fardale. Fardale was fairly isolated from the rest of the Situ Clan and their allegiance had always been to their Lord. Most of the people would not know Lord Ridak if they tripped over him.

  Within an hour after taking their Vows, the Corte sighted Fardale and Fardale saw them. A rider came out to greet them and, at Marak’s insistence, Squad Leader Zorkil did the talking. He introduced Marak as Cortain Marak and requested that the Meeting Chamber be made available immediately. He stated that Marak wanted to see every person on the estate and would address everyone as a group only after that. The rider pressed for more information, but Zorkil sent him off to prepare for the Cortain’s visit.

  As soon as the Corte arrived, Marak headed straight for the Meeting Chamber with Rybak’s men right behind him. As Marak was getting situated, Zorkil appeared with Seneschal Pito and Bursar Tachora. They were rather amused that young Marak was their new Lord, but were cooperative and recited their Vows. Marak then sent them off to obtain lists of all Fardale personnel. Seneschal Pito would have the lists of slaves and unpaid workers, while Bursar Tachora held the pay records for everyone else. Both men returned with their lists and remained for the rest of the Vows. Considering the large number of people on the Fardale estate, the ceremony was finished quickly. Zorkil helped Tagoro round up everyone after he finished with the household staff and Botal roped off a huge area behind the mansion so the kitchen staff could provide refreshments in a festive atmosphere.

  Squad Leader Zorkil was correct and only a handful of people made any sign of resistance. Marak made sure their names were noted as potential problems. By the time all of the Vows of Service had been given Fardale was in the midst of a party. Marak walked out to address them and had to wait several minutes to get their attention.

  “Fellow Clan members,” began Lord Marak, “I want to thank you for making my assumption to Lord of Fardale painless. I know many of you are curious about who I am and what my reign will be like. I am not going to give you some grand story and a bunch of meaningless promises. The next few months are going to be hard on all of us. Our number one priority will be to bring in the crops and deliver on our contracts. I know you have been through some terrifying times and the Chula occupy your thoughts every day, but the Chula are a problem for the Army. I have plans for dealing with the Chula. What we need are plans for dealing with the crops. I am not familiar with Fardale or its crops, so I have to depend on you to inform me of what is needed.”

  Marak paused to sip a glass of water and survey the crowd. Everyone was listening intently, but in every group there were people shaking their heads. “I have some new rules for Fardale that some will think foolish, but I assure you that anyone interfering with these new rules will be dealt with harshly. Anyone with a suggestion for improving crop yield will have the right to speak with any superior about it. That means that a field worker, even a slave, who has a thought about how to improve our crop yields should present their idea. If they think their suggestion is valid and is not being acted upon, they may take the suggestion to a higher authority without any recriminations. That includes bringing the matter to my attention. If anyone is in any way punished for this, I will deal with those responsible harshly.”

  Marak used his glass of water as an excuse to survey the crowd again. Nodding heads were starting to appear to negate the shaking heads so Marak knew he was heading in the right direction.

  “This policy,” he continued, “will extend to suggestions in all estate matters, but crop yield must be given the highest priority. This new policy does not excuse anyone from discussing their suggestions with their immediate superiors first. Only go further if your suggestion is not being acted upon. For those of you in the Army, we are going to need new Lectains and new Cortains. Every member of th
e Army is allowed to make nominations for these positions. No one may nominate themselves and each person may only make a nomination for one Cortain and One Lectain. The nominations shall be written and signed and can be left sealed with the Seneschal.”

  This got the soldiers excited and Marak had to wait for the noise level to drop before proceeding. “I am also instituting a Council of Advisors for Fardale,” resumed Lord Marak. “This Council will be made up of one representative from the Army, one from each of the guilds, the Seneschal, the Bursar, one from the household staff, one from the laborers, one from the mages and one from the slaves. Nominations will be the same as those mentioned for the Army, but will be delivered instead to Bursar Tachora.”

  Most of the crowd were nodding now and Marak concluded that most of the people, like people everywhere, were frustrated by what they saw as inept rulers with the workers not having any chance to offer suggestions. Marak observed that people tend to put more effort into their work when they feel they have some hand in directing it and the people of Fardale proved to be no exception. There was barely a shaking head to be seen. Squad Leader Botal’s idea about creating a festival atmosphere for the talk was also helpful. Marak saw many smiling faces with the froth of ale on their lips.

  “Now, to celebrate the arrival of your new Lord,” smiled Marak, “work for the rest of the day is cancelled.”

  Marak stepped down from the impromptu stand, which Botal had erected for him, and returned to the Meeting Chamber to think about what he would do next. Squad Leader Zorkil entered a few moments later.

  “What is the matter, Lord Marak?” Zorkil queried. “The people seem happier than I have seen them in a long time. Why are you not happy as well?”

  Marak looked up at his smiling Squad Leader. “There is much to do,” sighed Marak. “I am not sure where I should begin or even whether I have the necessary skills to take care of these people. I pushed my way into this position so I would be able to help the people. Well, I have the position now and I don’t know what to do.”

  Zorkil selected a chair next to Marak and sat down. “Already you have done more for the people’s spirits than Lord Lashendo ever did. So, you don’t know what to do next. Is that a major problem? You will tackle the problems one at a time like you would attack a superior force of men. You can not kill them all at once, so you select one to kill and hope the others don’t kill you while you are whittling down their numbers.”

  Marak looked queerly at his new Squad Leader. “You see running this estate as a battle?” quizzed Marak.

  “Why not?” Zorkil persisted. “All of life is a battle. You may use different tools and methods to accomplish your goals, but the strategy is the same. Put your first efforts toward the problem which will hurt you the most, use your resources wisely, take advantage of your people’s special skills, and never underestimate your opponent.”

  “You make it sound so easy, Marak chuckled. “If it were a battle, I would feel more at home in dealing with it.”

  “So I have heard,” smiled Zorkil. “Do not look so amazed. Even in Fardale, tales of Squad Leader Marak’s skill in battle have been heard. That is one of the reasons the Army didn’t object to taking the Vows. They respect a warrior, even a relatively young one, over some Seneschal or Bursar who has been given a promotion. They will test you to see what you are made of but, until you fail, they will support you.”

  “You carry surprising wisdom for a Squad Leader,” complimented Marak. “Is that why you were chosen over the other Squad Leaders to report to Lord Ridak?”

  “I have grown up with the Army,” Zorkil replied. “My father was a Lectain before he died. He taught me much about what motivates men. I do not understand your hesitation. Surely, you do not think that leadership is reserved for the babes of Lords. You have proven your own leadership skills already. Now you must do so again, but in a different arena. Consider everyone in Fardale as part of your Squad and attack.”

  “Careful, Zorkil,” laughed Marak, “I may appoint you the Clan Philosopher. But you are right. I am letting the overwhelming odds distract me. Tell Seneschal Pito and Bursar Tachora that I want complete reports on the status of Fardale on my desk in the morning. Where is my desk, by the way?”

  “I took the liberty of having your things taken to the Lord’s Suite,” smiled Zorkil. “I will show it to you when you are ready.”

  “Not tonight,” frowned Lord Marak. “Have my horse prepared instead. I am going to take care of the Chula tonight.”

  “Tonight?” gasped Zorkil. “You can’t mean tonight. I tried to spur you into action, but this is not sane. Your men will be weary from the long ride and the others have already had too much ale. You can not attack the Chula tonight.”

  “As you said, Zorkil,” nodded Marak, “take care of your biggest problem first. You are right and I will not wait any longer. Until the Chula are removed as a distraction, we can not move on to our other problems.”

  “Very well, Lord Marak,” Zorkil sighed. “I will be among the men going with you. How many do you wish?”

  “None,” declared Marak, “I am going alone. I have a secret weapon to use on the Chula and it is something they will never expect.”

  Squad Leader Zorkil stared in astonishment at his new young Lord. “As a Situ warrior, I will not permit my Lord to go into battle alone. If you do not allow me to accompany you, I will follow anyway. You may punish me for breaking my Vows of Service, but you will not be able to do so until we return.”

  “I admire your bravery, Squad Leader Zorkil,” remarked Lord Marak, “but this is something which does not require your help. At the best, your presence will add nothing to the solution. At worst, you will have died for nothing. This is something I must do alone. Your place is here to keep things running smoothly and to hide the fact that I am gone. Your skills will also be needed here if I do not return.”

  “Return from where?” asked Squad Leader Tagoro as he quietly stepped into the Meeting Chamber.

  “I should think a new Lord would get more respect than I get from the two of you,” admonished Marak. “Nobody would dare to talk to Lord Ridak this way.”

  “You are not Lord Ridak,” stated Tagoro. “You are someone we care about. He is just a figurehead. If you are planning on running away from your responsibilities, I am sure Zorkil will help me tie you to your desk.”

  “He is planning on using some secret weapon on the Chula,” blurted Zorkil. “He thinks we will let him go off alone and face those savages.”

  Marak glared at Zorkil for disclosing his mission, but Tagoro broke out laughing. “Well, his secret weapon is one that only he has the skill to use,” chuckled Tagoro.

  Turning more serious, Squad Leader Tagoro sat down. “Are you sure this is a good idea so soon?” he asked. “Your weapon has failed you before and there are many people whose lives depend on you.”

  “I am sure,” nodded Lord Marak. “I can not sleep knowing the Chula might attack at any moment and slaughter these people needlessly. I am going alone. If Zorkil even goes near a horse, I want you to lock him up.”

  Tagoro had seen his friend’s look of determination before and simply nodded. Zorkil looked back and forth between the two men from Lituk valley and shook his head. “I will have your horse made ready,” Zorkil sighed as he left the room.

  * * *

  Rykoma, Grand Shaman of the Kywara, walked through the trees to the hut of Tmundo, Leader of the Kywara Tribe. He pushed aside the deerskin flap and inhaled the scent of venison as he entered.

  “A scout has returned from Fardale,” Rykoma announced without preamble. “The Situ have sent more men to reinforce their garrison, one of them wears a yellow plume.”

  Tmundo waved his family out of the hut. Tmundo’s wife gathered the two small boys, who had been wrestling over a snake’s rattle, and ushered them outside.

  “One yellow plume is all that they sent?” questioned Tmundo. “Perhaps they will cause no further difficulties for us.”


  “You do not believe that any more than I do,” stated Rykoma. “It will take time for them to rebuild their leadership, but they will not cease their expansion into our lands. I say we should attack now and end the need to keep watch on them.”

  “Is our watch that costly in manpower that we cannot watch a while longer?” posed Tmundo. “These flatlanders are no real threat to the Kywara. Look how easily we removed their leaders. The troops were probably sent in to stop the others from running away and abandoning the settlement.”

  “Our scout reports there were signs of celebration,” remarked Rykoma. “This does not sound like a bunch of frightened deer to me. I think they hail a new warrior who has promised to lead them to victory. We should strike tonight while they are still deep in their ale.”

  Tmundo tore off a piece of venison and savored it in his mouth. “Perhaps we should keep a close eye on the new arrivals to see what they are planning,” Tmundo suggested. “When is your next scout due?”

  “Soon,” Rykoma answered as he took the liberty of retrieving a piece of venison for himself. His eyes grew wider as he waved the deer meat before his large nose. The senses of a shaman were acute and Rykoma could actually taste the venison before it entered his mouth.

  “I have dispatched another pair of scouts to replace those on watch,” Rykoma continued as he licked his lips. “They should have arrived at Fardale already and we will have an updated report shortly.”

  “Then we will wait a while longer before making the decision,” declared Tmundo. “If we kill all of the flatlanders at Fardale, some other Lord will take over and our troubles will continue. We must make them afraid to approach us, only then will we live in peace.”

  “If they are not afraid after witnessing our magic,” Rykoma persisted, “we will never scare them off. The only smart flatlander is a dead flatlander.”

  “You forget, “reminded Tmundo, “that the only flatlanders who have witnessed your magic are dead flatlanders. We will wait for the next report.”

  The Leader of the Kywara and the Grand Shaman did not have long to wait. The flap disappeared momentarily and the scout entered.