Aakuta: the Dark Mage (4 page)

“Fair enough,” smiled Ukaro. “It is wise to give a young man a long leash as some lessons are best learned through our own failures, but what if his life is endangered by his own folly?”

“I will explain the need for him to choose wisely,” answered Marak.

“And if he still doesn’t listen?” pushed the shaman.

“If it is a matter that threatens his life,” frowned Marak, “I will impose my will upon him to protect him.”

“By force?” questioned Ukaro. “Would you actually use force on your child to make him behave?”

“If his life was in danger?” Marak sighed with frustration. “Of course I would. Then I would again explain things to him so that he truly understood. What good is sparing the rod if the child is to die? Why are you pursuing this conversation, father? I have no intention of starting a family anytime soon, if at all.”

“You will make a great father,” Ukaro said seriously. “I mention this now because you already have a family. The Chula are your children now. The Khadorans are your children, too. Teach them what they need to know to survive. If they refuse to listen, punish them with force until they obey, and then explain things to them again. As I said before, Kaltara will guide you. You already seem to know how to manage unruly children.”

Marak shook his head in wonder, but he eventually smiled and hugged his father. “If I grow up to be as wise as you, Ukaro,” he chuckled, “I will be a good father indeed. I must return to Fardale now. I will try to visit again after the Sakovans have left.”

* * *

Lord Marak detoured to his secret mage training field on the way back to the Fardale mansion. When he arrived at the field, he saw Master Malafar talking to a group of women. He scowled inwardly as he turned abruptly and headed towards the mage, Klora.

“What is he doing here?” snapped Lord Marak. “How did he find out about this field?”

Klora looked at the Torak lord with surprise in her eyes. “You did not tell him about the field?” she asked. “He has been here since you left the estate. I assumed that you had sent him to explain Omungan magic to us. He has been doing just that for the last three days.”

“I did not send him,” Lord Marak retorted sharply, more sharply than he had intended to. “I am sorry, Klora. I should not be taking this out on you. I wonder how many others now know about our secret field?”

“Nobody else has been around, if that helps,” Klora shrugged. “Calm yourself. He has seen us and is coming this way. He really has taught us new approaches, Lord Marak. Do not be too hard on him.”

“Ah, Lord Marak,” greeted the Omungan mage. “You have the makings of a wonderful academy here. Why do you hide them?”

“I hide them because knowledge of their existence can threaten the survival of my people,” Lord Marak retorted. “How did you find out about this field?”

“You cannot hide the use of such magic from a trained mage,” shrugged Master Malafar. “I hope that I have not transgressed too much by being here, but I did want to offer you something for what you did for me in Omunga. Teaching your mages was the least I could do.”

Lord Marak sighed in frustration as he tried to calm himself. “Walk back to the mansion with me, Master Malafar,” he eventually said. “Now that you have spent time with my mage corps, tell me what you think of them.”

“I think they are wonderful students,” smiled Master Malafar as they started walking towards the distant mansion. “There is much talent among them, and it appears that they are extremely dedicated to learning. A master could not wish for a better group of students.”

“A pity that you are returning to Sakova,” Lord Marak said. “Knowledge of Omungan magic could be helpful to them.”

“Actually,” Master Malafar said hesitantly, “I am not returning to Omunga. I have not told Lyra yet, but my mind is made up. I have caused more than my fair share of grief for both the Omungan and Sakovan people.”

“What are you planning to do?” asked Lord Marak as his mind suddenly gave thought to having the mage stay and teach his mage corps.

“I need time alone,” answered Master Malafar. “You know from your trip to my homeland that I have messed things up rather badly down there. I no longer can live among the Omungans, and I do not feel at home with the Sakovans, even though my daughter rules them.”

“You are welcome to stay here in Fardale if you wish,” offered Lord Marak as his attitude towards the mage softened, “but I think you are judging the Sakovans harshly. They have accepted Lyra as their leader, and I know enough about them to know that they would welcome you into their homes.”

“I am sure that Lyra would demand that they welcome me,” sighed Master Malafar, “but I have wronged them as well. No, it is better for everyone if I just disappear. I have given this a tremendous amount of thought, Lord Marak, and I am determined in what I plan to do. I would like to spend another three days with your mages before I leave, but I cannot stay here any longer than that. I need time alone and I suspect it will be years before I sort out my own problems. Hopefully by that time, some of my mistakes will have been forgotten.”

“You are very harsh with yourself, Master Malafar,” declared Lord Marak. “Most of your mistakes were not of your own making. Others used you. Do not blame yourself for such things.”

“What you say is true,” nodded Master Malafar, “but I have erred plenty by myself. I have to atone for what I did to Rhodella and Alfred, and I cannot begin to understand what I can do to make things up to Lyra. She is in a difficult position now and having me around will only complicate things unnecessarily. I will leave Fardale in three days.”

“Where will you go?” questioned Lord Marak.

“I have no idea,” shrugged the Omungan mage. “I seek solitude, and if I did know my destination, I would not tell anyone in any event. Frankly, I want to be forgotten. If you are concerned about the secrecy of your mage corps, do not be. I will not tell anyone that it exists, but I think you are making a mistake.”

“A mistake?” echoed Lord Marak. “You surely do not understand my situation here in Khadora. I am as much a foreigner to these Khadorans as Lyra is to the Omungans. They will seek every avenue to eliminate me. The mage corps is my secret army for when it is needed. If people learn of it, they will hasten to destroy me. Besides, I am buying mage slaves from every clan in Khadora. If they found out that the mage could be a military asset, those people would never see their freedom. I can not allow that.”

“I understand more than you give me credit for,” grinned Master Malafar. “If Khadora is anything like Omunga, you are correct in your assumption about the other clans learning of your secret mage corps. They would attack instantly to nip you before you became too powerful. There is another way, however. Can I make a suggestion?”

“Please do,” nodded Lord Marak. “I am always open to new ideas.”

“Make your mage corps very public,” chuckled the magician. “Set up a mage school in one of Khadora’s cities. Do not align it with yourself, but make it appear as a legitimate business, a school for training those with magical talent. Other clans might send their mages to your school, and unless I am mistaken about human nature, those mages will become excellent spies for you. You could also hire out the services of the mages at the school to estates so that the clans would no longer have need to maintain their own mages.”

“They would be eager to shed their estates of the untrained mages they already have,” brightened Lord Marak, “especially if I were to sell the mage services inexpensively.”

“Exactly,” Master Malafar nodded vigorously. “You will actually end up controlling all of the mages in Khadora. Oh, someone might try to start another school to be in competition with you, but mages cannot be treated as slaves and still prosper. No Khadoran would free his slaves to be your competition.”

“You are a genius, Master Malafar,” laughed Lord Marak. “We have acquired so many mages that I am having a hard time keeping up with the housing needs here in Fardale. Sooner or later their practice field would have to become known to my enemies. I shall see to having that school set up right away. I do wish you would stay here longer. You may have other ideas that would prove helpful.”

“I cannot delay any longer,” Master Malafar objected. “Three days is all I will spend here. I should have left when we first arrived last month, but I wanted to do something for you as a payment for your help in Omunga. Without your interfering, I would have remained ignorant of my own people’s deceit. Now I can consider you repaid.”

“Very well,” Marak frowned as he realized the Master Malafar was being helpful just to ease his conscience and not because he wanted to help with the problems facing Fardale or Sakova. “How will you break this news to your daughter?”

“Lyra has no say over what I do,” Master Malafar stated sternly. “She must rule her Sakovans, and I want no part of that. That chapter of my life is over. I merely want to find a hole to crawl into and disappear. She will just have to accept it.”

“I am having a meeting tonight with Lyra and some of the clan lords that swear allegiance to me,” Lord Marak mentioned in a last attempt to lure Master Malafar into helping out. “I would like you to attend if you don’t mind. As long as you are spending three more days here, let me see if I can tap into your brilliant mind for some more help.”

“Were I a woman, Lord Marak,” chuckled Master Malafar, “I would learn to be leery of your soft-spoken words. You sprinkle honey across the ground hoping to attract something useful. I will attend your meeting, but you will be disappointed if you expect me to suddenly carry your banner. I know the future of my life, and it does not intersect with yours or Lyra’s. In fact, it does not intersect with anyone’s. I just want to be left alone.”

As Lord Marak and Master Malafar approached the mansion in Fardale, the bursar, Kasa, ran down the steps to greet them.

“You are safe,” Kasa blurted out. “I wish you would not go off without letting me know. All of the lords of your other estates and clans arrived yesterday for the meeting that you requested. I have had trouble avoiding their questions about where you were.”

“I am sure that you handled it well,” smiled Lord Marak. “I want to invite Lyra and Master Malafar to attend the meeting as well. When it is over, I want you to meet with Master Malafar. He has some interesting ideas about a mage school that I think you should hear.”

Kasa glanced at the Omungan mage as she nodded. “I also have a stack of contracts that require your signature, and the Lord Marshal needs to see you immediately upon your arrival.”

“Is there trouble?” the Khadoran lord asked.

“Lord Marshal Yenga would not reveal it if there was,” frowned Kasa. “He shares nothing until you have heard it first.”

“As he should,” Lord Marak smiled as he saw the frustration in Kasa’s face. “You worry too much, Kasa. Why don’t you and Master Malafar discuss the mage school now and I will see Lord Marshal Yenga. The meeting can wait a few more minutes. Don’t forget to invite Lyra.”

Kasa nodded, and Lord Marak vaulted up the stairs and into the mansion. He moved swiftly to Yenga’s office before any of the visiting lords had a chance to notice that he had returned to Fardale. He hesitated in the doorway and viewed the Lord Marshal talking to a merchant.

“Come in,” prompted Yenga. “I have been waiting for you to return.”

Lord Marak entered the office and gazed at the merchant. Suddenly he grinned broadly and slapped the merchant on the back.

“I should have realized that no ordinary merchant would be visiting my Lord Marshal,” smiled Lord Marak. “What brings you to Fardale, Fisher?”

“Your service,” answered the spy. “I have been picking up bits of information that I felt must be shared with you.”

“Then let the three us talk,” nodded Lord Marak as he pulled a chair over towards the desk and sat down. “First, what is so important that my Lord Marshal demands my immediate presence?”

“Another caravan has been ambushed,” replied Lord Marshal Yenga as deep lines etched across his forehead.

“How did we find out about it?” asked Lord Marak.

“One of our men, Netura, sent a message via an air tunnel from River’s Bend,” stated Lord Marshal Yenga. “He is a smart lad to have stopped in River’s Bend. Most would have ridden all the way back here to Fardale.”

“So we had survivors this time,” responded Lord Marak.

“Only Netura,” frowned Yenga, “and he survived only because Hira had ordered him to flee. Netura was not happy about abandoning his squad leader.”

“Hira was a good squad leader,” Lord Marak said sadly. “He will be missed. What do we know about the attackers?”

“They were dressed as gray warriors,” replied the Lord Marshal, “but Netura believes that it was a disguise. The attack was efficiently executed, and the enemy took pains to ensure that not a single one of their men was exposed to danger.”

“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.”