Young Lord of Khadora

by Richard S. Tuttle

  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.

  Chapter 17

  Reunion

  Marshal Tingo entered Lord Zawbry’s study and saluted. The Ragatha Lord motioned for the Marshal to sit and waited until he complied.

  “How did the meeting with the emissary go?” Lord Zawbry inquired.

  “I never got there,” reported Marshal Tingo. “Lord Marak had already left, but I was invited to stay and wait for him. It gave me a good chance to check out the Fardale estate. I have some interesting information for you.”

  “It is a shame you missed the meeting,” lamented Lord Zawbry, “but any information we can get on our new neighbor will be useful, as long as the agreement doesn’t cut off our route to the rest of the world.”

  “I don’t think Lord Marak gave them any land,” guessed Marshal Tingo. “I think he gave them all of his slaves, though. There was not one slave on the entire estate. The most interesting tidbit is that Lord Marshal Grefon was there.”

  “The Situ Lord Marshal came for the meeting?” asked Lord Zawbry.

  “I don’t think he was able to get into the meeting,” smiled Marshal Tingo. “He is not a happy person. Lord Marak did not treat him well. As a matter of fact, I saw his life threatened twice while I was there. A Cortain pulled a sword on him and held it to the Lord Marshal’s chest and threatened to arrest him.”

  “You saw this?” Lord Zawbry asked incredulously.

  “Yes,” laughed Marshal Tingo, “and only moments later, Lord Marak, himself, stabbed a knife between Lord Marshal Grefon’s hands and ordered him to get out of Fardale before dark or he would have his men hunt him down like an animal.”

  “It sounds like there is a serious rift in the Situ camp,” smiled Lord Zawbry. “Did the Lord Marshal leave?”

  “Like a dog with his tail between his legs,” chuckled Marshal Tingo. “I had a chance to talk with him as he was leaving. He is a very bitter man. He actually said he hopes the Sorgans wiped Fardale out. I know he would not offer any support to Lord Marak, even if the Fardale Lord pleaded for it.”

  “Excellent!” beamed Lord Zawbry. “That sounds like an invitation if I have ever heard one. We must act before the Litari learn of this. They would not hesitate to seal us off. With Fardale under our control, the Litari will be powerless even with Sorgan support. Still, we must have some provocation so it does not appear as if we are a threat to others.”

  “I may have what you are looking for,” smiled Marshal Tingo. “Lord Marak mentioned meeting with you in Fardale to talk about our use of Fardale to access our other estates. He indicated that he had read the contract and said that Fardale has received no compensation for the use. He indicated that it was nothing major, merely a technicality to ensure that it is a legal contract.”

  “He is clever, this Marak,” noted Lord Zawbry. “That had been my intention all along. When I penned the contract with Lord Lashendo and Bursar Tachora, I offered one sum to Fardale or triple the sum to the two of them privately. As I expected they jumped at the private funds. What fools. If it was left unchanged for three years, we would have had a land grant, a legal and permanent right-of-way across Fardale.”

  “Well,” suggested Marshal Tingo, “what would happen if you met with Lord Marak and the talks did not go well? He would stop our access and we could claim he was breaking a contract.”

  “Yes,” thought Lord Zawbry, “that would work, but we will have to time it perfectly. We must already have the armies from our other estates ready to strike Fardale from the other side when the talks break down. I must travel to meet with Lord Sevrin. He is going to have to authorize this before we start something that he will not approve of. I will not risk offending our Clan Lord over Fardale. You have done well, Marshal Tingo, well, indeed.”

  * * *

  Cortain Tagoro looked up from his polishing when he heard the knock on his door. He shouted for the person to enter as he placed his helmet on the stand next to his bed.

  “Excuse me, Tagoro, may I speak with you?” asked Cortain Rybak.

  “Sure,” Tagoro answered. “Come on in.”

  Cortain Rybak grabbed a chair next to the small table and sat down. “I wanted to thank for saving me from Lord Marshal Grefon yesterday,” thanked Rybak. “I was trying to avoid him ever since he entered the estate and the flower garden was the one place I didn’t think he would look.”

  “No thanks are necessary,” smiled Tagoro. “Elsa came running directly to me when you shooed her out of the garden. You can actually thank yourself. If you hadn’t leveled with me about what Grefon wanted you to do, I would not have arrived so quickly.”

  “I had to tell somebody,” admitted Rybak. “Koors started using me against the other men and then Grefon picked up on it. It seemed to be an easy way to rise in rank and I didn’t see any harm in it. I gues
s I have Lord Marak to thank for my change in attitude. If I hadn’t seen what a change in attitude one man can make in people, I probably would have remained ignorant my whole life. When I saw how much he cared for his people, my stomach turned every time I thought of my obligations to Lord Marshal Grefon. I used the bandits as an excuse, but I could have gotten word out with the Ragatha caravans. I’m glad I didn’t. You didn’t break your promise about telling Lord Marak, did you?”

  “No, smiled Tagoro. “I don’t have to tell Lord Marak. He has known since before we left Lituk Valley.”

  “He knows?” asked Rybak. “Then why hasn’t he done anything about it? Why did he allow me to rise to Cortain?”

  “I’m not sure anybody understands all of Lord Marak,” theorized Tagoro. “I know he believes that there is good in every person and that if you dig deep enough you will find it. Perhaps he understood your confusion about what is right and what is wrong. Maybe he thought giving you time to think about your actions would solve the problem. It certainly appears that is what has happened.”

  “I feel bad now that I know he knows,” sighed Rybak. “If I try to make it up to him or talk to him about it, he will think I am up to my old games again. I couldn’t blame him if he did think that.”

  “Don’t underestimate Lord Marak,” smiled Tagoro. “Since you have given your Vows to him, you have not once betrayed him. I am sure that he knows this. My advice is to entirely forget about your past and just concentrate on doing the right thing from now on. The rest will work itself out just fine.”

  “I wish I had your confidence,” Rybak said. “I like it here in Fardale and I’m kind of attached to Elsa. I don’t want to lose that. Lord Marshal Grefon sounded like he still had authority over me and that I was going back to Lituk Valley.”