Young Lord of Khadora (17 page)

“Yes,” Marak replied eagerly. “This afternoon and every day from now on. I think we are making excellent progress and this news about the Kywara mages helping us spurs me on.”

“Let me go inform the others, then,” declared Klora. “We will meet you there as always.”

* * *

“Why haven’t we had word from Fardale?” demanded Lord Ridak. “I don’t like the lack of communications.”

“I can only assume that Lord Marak’s men are running into the same problems as we are,” offered Lord Marshal Grefon. “We have already lost three messengers to the bandits and a fourth who barely escaped with his life.”

“We have never had bandits in this area before,” complained the Lord of the Situ. “Why have they chosen such an inappropriate time to plague us? You should take a Corte into those hills and wipe them out.”

“I do not wish to risk that many of my men to such a minor inconvenience,” Grefon replied. “Besides, it may be better to have them as an excuse for being out of touch with your new young Lord. When Lord Marak runs into trouble he won’t be able to call on us for help. That will make his incompetence more readily apparent. We need to concentrate our efforts on Raven’s Point. If we intend to push the Morgar border back this fall, I want to be ready for it. We have already given up one Corte to Fardale. We should not waste another chasing bandits.”

“Very well,” conceded Lord Ridak. “I suppose you will not be planning to draw any troops out of Fardale for our push towards the Morgar.”

“They won’t be needed,” determined Lord Marshal Grefon. “Troops from Stony Brook and River’s Bend will be sufficient to accomplish our goal.”

“I am still concerned about Lord Quilo getting involved,” confided Lord Ridak. “If Lord Saycher calls upon his Organila ally, our whole plan could collapse. We could even be in danger of losing territory at Raven’s Point.”

“Lord Quilo may rant and rave at the Lords Council, but I doubt he will send troops,” speculated Grefon. “If it looks like he might, we will push forward and take all of Lord Saycher’s holdings. We can then negotiate about how much of it we will be willing to give back. After we are done with Raven’s Point, we can concentrate on your Lord Marak.”

“Yes, yes,” smiled Lord Ridak, “that does sound appropriate. The troubles at Raven’s Point will be another reason why we couldn’t watch over Lord Marak and his dealings. No one will fault us for his failings.”

* * *

Marak strolled along the road on his way to meet with his mages for their daily session. The sessions were held in a field that was no longer cultivated and was situated in an area of the estate, which was seldom visited. Nobody other than the mages knew about the daily sessions and Lord Marak preferred to keep it that way. So it was that Marak registered no small amount of shock when a black clad man stepped out of the bushes before him, blocking the way. The two men stood measuring each other for some moments before Lord Marak spoke.

“Who are you and what do you want?” Marak demanded while watching the black clad man’s hands for any sign of him reaching for a weapon.

“You can call me Fisher, Lord Marak,” the man smiled, “and what I want is a moment of your time.”

Marak glanced up the road towards his meeting spot with the mages and quickly returned his eyes to the black clad man. “You appear to know me,” declared Lord Marak, “and yet I am sure we have never met. I will grant you your moment, but I want to know more about you before you leave.”

“I will make no guarantees,” smiled Fisher. “I have come to find out more about you. You are doing things with your estate that have never been done before and I want to know why.”

“You are rather bold to question a Lord about his affairs on his own estate,” ventured Marak as he moved his hand closer to his sword hilt. “It is I who should be interrogating you. Who sent you here?”

Fisher laughed and lowered himself to the ground, placing his back against a tree. “Sit and talk, Lord Marak,” Fisher chuckled. “I know you are fast and strong with your weapons, but I have not come today to test your mettle. Besides, you may find me a match for your skills, Omunga Stars and all.”

Marak blinked at the sudden realization that this stranger knew a good deal about him. It was not so much the mention of the Omunga Stars, as their use was being taught to the Army in Fardale, but Fisher appeared to know how Marak would react to his every movement. His sitting down was meant to put Marak at ease and it almost did, but Marak knew how well a man could attack from a sitting position. Marak studied the man and his black outfit. His clothing was perfect for stealth and covert actions. He carried a double-edged sword like the one Marak practiced with, but it was in a sheath on the man’s back, which seemed very practical. Fisher’s body seemed to be all muscle, but he was not a very tall man, nor would one notice his fitness unless one was looking for it. His black uniform was covered with pockets and pouches and Marak imagined what those pouches might hold.

Fisher sensed Marak’s hesitation and spoke. “You asked to see me, Lord Marak,” Fisher smiled. “I don’t normally meet with a client, but I am curious. I pressed Kasa for details about you, but I am afraid she sees with a woman’s eyes, which was not sufficient for me. There is really very little known about you other than your Army career.”

Realization dawned on Marak as he realized that this was Kasa’s spy. “Why are you trying to find out information about me?” quizzed Marak. “I thought we were paying you to investigate someone else.”

“I thought you would be more pleased with what I have turned up on Bursar Tachora,” frowned Fisher. “Perhaps you are a hard man to please. Why have you freed your slaves?”

“Your information has been excellent,” admitted Marak, “assuming it is correct.”

Fisher feigned shock at Marak’s words. “Every word is truth,” admonished Fisher. “If I ever pass you questionable information, it will be noted as such. Why have you freed your slaves?”

Marak stared at the man, trying to determine his motives for asking that question. He knew very little about this man whom Kasa rated so highly, other than the fact that he did not reveal himself to his clients. Yet, here he was. “I abhor slavery,” Marak finally answered. “People should not be owned like wasooki. If you expect people to work for you, you should treat them with respect for the job they are doing. Now, why have you broken your rule about meeting with clients?”

“Fair enough,” agreed Fisher. “You intrigue me, Lord Marak. I have done work for most of the Clans in Khadora and you are definitely not a typical Lord. I am curious about what makes you different and what you plan to do with your newly found powers. I do not meet with clients because I may be working against them the following month, so none of them should know what I look like. From what I have discovered about you so far, I do not think I would be willing to work against you. What are your plans for your Situ estate? Are you just another lackey for Lord Ridak? Or are you planning to change the very nature of life in Khadora?”

Marak felt satisfied enough about Fisher’s reasons for meeting him to sit down himself. “I am not the lackey Lord Ridak believes,” Marak admitted. “He may get me in the end, but the people of Fardale are free of Situ rule. They no longer owe any allegiance to Lord Ridak. Where all of this is leading, I do not know. Life in Khadora is unfair for most of the people. A couple of hundred Lords rule the country and treat everyone else like dirt. I plan to change as much of that as I can before they get me. When I am done Khadora will have a new class of people, free men with no allegiance to any Lord.”

“Won’t they have allegiance to Lord Marak?” inquired Fisher.

“In the beginning I will require it,” admitted Lord Marak, “but eventually I will be gone and with me will go the need for their allegiance. Why is this so important to you?”

“I have a decision to make,” exposed Fisher. “My family was killed by one of Khadora’s fine Lords. I have devoted my life to avenging their death. I started to gather information on this particular Lord and found out that I was very good at what I do. The selling of my services provide the funds I need to avenge my family. The information I gathered on you makes me set my sights on a finer goal. I share your feelings about Khadora and would love to see things changed. If you are successful, my original goal will be met anyway. The country can not change without the death of the Lord I seek to kill.”

“Who is this Lord who has wronged your family?” Marak asked.

“It is better at this time that you do not know,” declared Fisher. “I am not yet convinced that you will succeed with your plan and I would not want this Lord to know he is hunted.”

“Fair enough,” understood Marak. “Now that you know where I am headed, will you still perform tasks for me?”

“More than you know,” chuckled Fisher. “If you are amenable to taking me into your confidence, I will work for no one else. I can be of much more help to you than you know. For example, I know that the bandits who are blocking runners between you and Lituk Valley are not bandits at all.”

“Not bandits,” frowned Marak. “Then who are they and why are they stopping my runners?”

“They are actually soldiers of the Sorgan Clan, one of your neighbors,” informed Fisher. “Lord Quavry has cut you off from Lituk Valley for some reason. I don’t know the reason yet, but I will find out. We will talk again soon. I have some things to do and you have your mages waiting for you.”

“How did you know?” Marak asked shockingly.

“I heard them talking while I was waiting for you,” chuckled Fisher. “There is also a package for you behind the large tree over there. I know you will appreciate it as few men would.”

Fisher rose and disappeared into the foliage. Marak got to his feet, shaking his head. Never did he have a meeting so bizarre and, yet, Fisher could prove to be an extremely important ally. Something about Fisher made Marak want to trust him. He knew the man’s trade required leaving people with just that impression, but Marak felt his was more than that. He walked over and retrieved the long, paper-wrapped package and hurried to his appointment with the mages.

Marak lay awake staring at the ceiling in his dark bedroom. The sounds of Fardale had quieted hours ago, but Marak found no comfort in the silence. He thought back to his days as Squad Leader and laughed out loud. Life was simpler then without the intrigue and schemes, which were part of running an estate. He hadn’t heard from Fisher in two weeks and for some reason that bothered Marak. He still had no idea what the Sorgans were up to and that meant trouble. He had learned that Lord Quavry disliked the very existence of Fardale, but nothing that would indicate any overt hostilities.

Kasa was doing better with the Ksaly Company. As she predicted, Tachora swallowed the contract offer instantly and his funds had already been transferred to the Fardale coffers. At least Fardale would not have a problem honoring their contracts and that was Marak’s first priority. Lord Marak sat up and lit a candle. Hastily he scribbled a note to replace Tachora as Bursar in the morning. There was no longer a need to pretend that he was not aware of the Khadora Grain Importers now that he had their money. It was time for Kasa to become the first female Situ Bursar. Lord Ridak would choke on his breakfast when he found out. As far as Marak knew, there was not a female Bursar in the entire country. It was just one more change, which Khadora needed. Her first job would be to find a market for the grain, which Fardale would begin harvesting soon.

The lack of communication with Lord Ridak bothered him as well. Marak was in no hurry to reestablish communications, but Lituk Valley should be. Still, there were no runners from Lord Ridak or Lord Marshal Grefon.

The most exciting development had been the confirmation of Marak’s ideas about magic. Mages of one discipline were quite capable of learning the other disciplines provided they had the proper training. Marak still hosted the two-hour meeting in secrecy every day and most of Fardale’s mages were now proficient in at least two disciplines. Even better than Marak had expected, mixed teams of mages could link together and produce results far greater than the same number of mages working alone. Marak scribbled another note to have Kasa start buying any slave mages she found for sale.

Lectain Zorkil continued to plot the visits of the Kywara and it became very evident that the Chula were enriching Fardale’s fields somehow. The Kywara reacted favorably to the soldiers’ waves and the water brought out by Klora’s mages. They started visiting the closer fields and Fardale’s harvest promised to be a good one. Marak’s thoughts lingered on the Kywara and he decided it was time to visit them again.

Marak rose and retrieved the package Fisher had left for him. The spy continually amazed Marak. His opening gift had been a duplicate of the blacksuit that Marak had admired, complete with a back sheath which fit Marak’s double-edged sword. This gift was purchased and delivered before Fisher ever met the Lord of Fardale and yet it was exactly what Marak would have wanted if he had known what to ask for.

Marak laid the blacksuit out on the bed and was preparing to put it on when he heard a sound from the doorway. Marak grabbed his sword and twirled around as he dropped to a crouch.

“There is nothing wrong with your reflexes,” chuckled Fisher from the doorway. “Did I interrupt something?”

“A man could die sneaking around like that,” scowled Lord Marak. “You should learn to announce yourself in a less startling fashion.”

“Sorry,” apologized Fisher, “but most people would not have heard me. I see the stories about you are true. Are you just admiring my gift or were you planning something fun?”

Marak motioned for Fisher to enter as he sat down on the bed. “I was planning a trip to the forest,” explained Marak. “Too many thoughts nag my mind for me to get a decent night's sleep. How did you know I would appreciate your gift?”

“The sword sheath was easy,” remarked Fisher. “Whenever any soldier talks about your strange habits, your practicing with the double-edged sword is the first topic of conversation. I happen to share your admiration for that type of blade. As for the blacksuit, what warrior would ask for a finer garment? It is tight enough to avoid getting snagged on bushes and yet loose enough to be comfortable. The color is obvious for anyone who works at night and you strike me as one Khadoran who is not afraid of the dark. I think it will appeal to your taste more than the gaudy green and yellow colors of the Situ Clan.”