Young Lord of Khadora (40 page)

“I’m not sure that is an acceptable answer,” countered Lord Marak. “I have seen my mother without Ukaro for many years. I do not wish to ever see her that way again. Will I offend Ukaro or the Chula if I do not inform him of the upcoming conflict?”

Tmundo picked up a stick and started poking the coals of the fire. Rykoma glanced at Tmundo and then moved his eyes to meet Lord Marak’s. “Ukaro is a proud man,” the Head Shaman of the Kywara announced. “He feels that Lord Ridak’s death will fall far short of restitution, but he will seek it as the only recourse he has. If you deprive him of that opportunity, purposely, it will hurt him deeply. He will see himself as a man whose son does not respect him and that will hurt him greater than the continued good health of Lord Ridak.”

“You are not aware of the power of a Chula Shaman,” interjected Tmundo. “Ukaro could cause more damage to the Situ Clan than five of your Cortes. You have no need to shield him from his enemies.”

“He is still a man,” retorted Lord Marak. “One arrow can end his life as easily as mine. Vengeance clouds a man’s mind and makes him careless.”

“You have just supplied your own answer,” stated Tmundo. “What do you think the loss of your life will mean to Ukaro? How will he cope with your death if it is at the hands of a man he should have already killed, but did not because he was cavorting with his long lost lover?”

“The fact that you failed to tell him about Lord Ridak to shield him from harm,” added Rykoma, “will add a twist to the knife of pain already in him. You are contemplating a path of remorse, young Marak. Talk with Ukaro and explain your feelings. He is a proud man, but he is also proud of you. He will not take offense at your words.”

"They have traveled to the Sacred Lake of our ancestors," offered Tmundo. "I will order an escort to show you the way. It is high in the mountains above the trees and beyond the Golden Gates.

Lord Marak nodded and rose from his seat by the fire. His mind wandered from what he would say to Ukaro, to the upcoming confrontation with Lord Ridak as he paced around the campfire. In moments, his escorts arrived and Marak mounted a jaguar for the journey further into the mountains. The group did not speak as they traveled and Marak paid little attention to his surroundings until they entered a large clearing and he saw the glint of sunlight reflecting off something in the distance. The mountains rose starkly here and as they approached the glinting object, Marak's eyes widened in wonder. The grass of the clearing gave way to an ancient road paved with white rocks and sand. Straddling the road where it entered a narrow pass between two mountains was the source of glinting.

Marak stared in awe at what must be the Golden Gate. It was an enormous arch formed by a golden lion and a golden jaguar. They rose on their hind legs several man-heights tall with their forepaws meeting to form the arch. As they passed underneath, Marak wondered about the ancient civilization the Chula must have had before the Khadorans invaded. The craftsmanship of the arch and the road were not the only things amazing about this feat. The secrecy of its existence was another. The amount of gold in the arch would bring the entire armies of Khadora storming into these mountains if anyone even suspected it existed.

Shortly after passing under the Golden Gate, the party halted on a grassy rise overlooking a pristine lake. Two figures could be seen on the distant shoreline and Marak left the jaguar and his escorts and strode towards the lake.

He headed towards the Sacred Lake, but he moved slowly, lost in thought. He arrived at the lake all too soon and still didn’t have his thoughts collected when he saw his mother and father lying on the grass at the lake’s edge. He stood there silently for a moment soaking in a sight he had long dreamed of seeing. Glenda looked up and called to him and Marak strode over to greet his parents.

“You two are cavorting like a pair of youngsters,” chuckled Lord Marak. “I feel like I am intruding.”

“You will never be an intrusion in our lives, Marak,” answered Glenda.

“Come and sit down, my Son the Torak,” greeted Ukaro as he sat up. “We do not see enough of you these days.”

“I have many things to keep me busy, Father,” smiled Lord Marak. “You are welcome in Fardale. I know you do not appreciate living with the flatlanders, but they will accept you.”

“I do not need their acceptance when I have yours,” stated Ukaro. “Besides, I do not think it is wise for the flatlanders to know your father is a Chula. There may be times in the future when their lack of that knowledge will be helpful to you.”

“As you wish,” Lord Marak accepted as he sat down beside his parents. “I must talk with you about Lord Ridak.”

Glenda’s jaw tightened and her neck muscles tensed. The happy lines around Ukaro’s eyes disappeared and his eyebrows lowered. “He is a most unwelcome topic,” sighed Ukaro. “What is it you wish to discuss about him?”

“I want to discuss your need for revenge,” Lord Marak blurted out. “I do not want to see the joy drain out of your face as I just have. I do not want to see my mother go stiff with tension when his name is brought up but, most of all, I do not want to see this family further marred by this man. I want you to forego your revenge and leave Lord Ridak to me.”

“I believe that I have a prior claim on that son of a Situ,” demanded the Head Shaman of the Zatong.

“Your claim is no older than mine,” retorted Lord Marak, “and my Clan also has a claim.”

“Will you two stop fighting!” exclaimed Glenda. “I have lived a nightmare under this man for fourteen years and the two of you act like his death is your property. No claim can take precedence over mine. Perhaps I should kill him myself.”

Lord Marak and Ukaro stared at Glenda with open mouths. Neither of them had ever heard an offensive word out of her mouth before and they were shocked.

“Does it really matter who kills Lord Ridak?” Glenda continued. “Marak, do you believe that I would love you any less if you were not the one to kill Lord Ridak? Or you, Ukaro? Let the fates decide what happens to Lord Ridak. This family has been torn apart enough already. I will not permit the two of you to argue over who shall have the pleasure of killing that man.”

Both men lowered their eyes, but it was Lord Marak who spoke. “I have to go to Lituk Valley in two days to meet with an emissary of the Lords Council. Lord Ridak seeks to regain title to Fardale. After he fails he will be coming to Fardale to forcibly take it back. I do not seek to deprive you of your revenge, Father, but it is a problem which I must deal with and I do not wish to take the chance of losing you again.”

“You will not lose me to the likes of Lord Ridak,” nodded Ukaro. “You are the Torak and you must do what you must do. I offer my services to the Torak for the upcoming battle. I do not insist that you take my offer and I will not take offense if you deliver the killing blow, but if there is a possibility of him being taken alive, I would like to take him captive.”

“I will keep you informed of the situation,” agreed Lord Marak. “If he can be captured, he is yours to do with as you wish. I am sorry for bringing this cloud into your day of sunshine. I must go and prepare for my journey.”

Lord Marak rose to leave and Glenda rose and embraced him. Ukaro rose and hugged both of them and then Lord Marak turned and left. His mind was lost in thought on the journey back to Fardale and he appeared at the main gate before he realized the trip was over. He saw the Squad of Imperial Soldiers had arrived and hurried to Lord Marshal Yenga’s study.

“I will be departing immediately,” Lord Marak informed his Lord Marshal. “You must finalize plans for their attack. Lord Ridak is to be captured if possible.”

“Do you think all of the Situ estates will be involved?” asked Lord Marshal Yenga.

“Absolutely,” confirmed Lord Marak. “Lord Marshal Grefon will not want to take any chances of me escaping.”

“I would like permission to station troops outside each of their estates,” requested Lord Marshal Yenga. “If they pull the armies out of the estates, I can take each of them with a single Corte apiece.”

“Can we afford the reduction in strength?” queried Lord Marak.

“They will all be Ragatha Cortes,” explained Lord Marshal Yenga. “We will still have enough to accomplish our goal. I feel it is necessary to stop someone else from moving in and seizing the estates.”

“Very well,” conceded Lord Marak. “They must be kept out of sight and they must wear Torak uniforms when they take possession. Do we have enough uniforms to accomplish this?”

“The Seneschal has never stopped making them,” smiled Lord Marshal Yenga. “We have enough to outfit every man in each of the four Clans if necessary.”

“Good,” nodded Lord Marak. “Have them wear their Ragatha Clan uniforms up to the time just before they take possession. I also want Cortain Tagoro’s Corte to accompany me to Lituk Valley. They will not be permitted on the estate, but they can wait nearby. I do not trust Lord Marshal Grefon to act honestly.”

“As you command,” smiled Lord Marshal Yenga.

Lord Marak went out and introduced himself to the Squad Leader of the Imperial troops. As soon as Cortain Tagoro’s Corte was ready, the column moved off towards Lituk Valley. The ride was slower and more comfortable than Lord Marak’s last ride to Lituk Valley. The Imperial troops were friendly and curious about the new uniforms of the Torak Clan, but they were also alert and professional. They had no objection to riding with a Corte of Lord Marak’s men and even suggested a place for the troops to wait while the meeting went on.

The party set up camp within sight of Lituk Valley, but outside the boundary of Lord Ridak’s estate. Patrols of Situ soldiers came right up to the boundary all through the night and Lord Marak instructed Cortain Tagoro to move his men to a more hidden spot as soon as Lord Marak left with the Imperial Squad.

As Lord Marak was escorted towards the mansion at Lituk Valley, Lord Marak gazed around at the soldiers of the Situ Army. While there were sneers from some of the officers, most of the soldiers were more curious about the rise of one of their own than they were about facing the Torak Clan in battle. Obviously, the officers had been briefed about a potential conflict and the common soldiers had not.

Lord Ridak and Lord Marshal Grefon stood on the porch alongside the emissary from the Lords Council. The faces of the two highest ranking Situ men were masks of hatred. The emissary smiled politely and introduced himself. No greeting came from Lord Ridak or Lord Marshal Grefon and Lord Marak offered none in return. The emissary led the group to the Meeting Chamber and took the chair at the head of the table. Lord Marak sat across from Lord Ridak and Lord Marshal Grefon. The Situ guards were told to leave the chamber and were replaced by Imperial Soldiers.

“This meeting has been called by Lord Ridak of the Situ Clan to dispute the legality of ownership of the Fardale estate,” began the emissary. “Do both parties agree to be bound by the ruling of this mediator?”

“Of course,” spat Lord Ridak. “I have called for this session. The question is whether a man without honor like Marak will acknowledge your decision.”

“The Torak Clan is willing to accept the judgment of the Lords Council,” nodded Lord Marak.

“What is the Torak Clan?” asked the emissary. “I do not recognize your colors or your Clan.”

“I am Lord Marak of the Torak Clan,” declared Lord Marak. “I have exercised my rights under law as the Lord of an unaligned estate to create a new Clan. The black and silver are my colors. The Sword of Torak is my symbol. I ask the emissary of the Lords Council to recognize the legality of the Torak Clan and its ownership of the Fardale estate.”

“Recognition is normally reserved for the Lords Council,” the emissary pointed out, “and the reality of Fardale being an unaligned estate is the question for which we have assembled today.”

“You, as mediator and emissary, are the Lords Council here today,” smiled Lord Marak. “As such, your recognition is the same as recognition by the Lords Council. I request that you recognize the Torak Clan and myself as the Lord of the Clan when you have determined my ownership of the Fardale estate.”

“Very well, Lord Marak,” agreed the emissary. “If you succeed in proving that Fardale is an unaligned estate, I will grant you the recognition you request but, I warn you, the use of the Torak Clan name and colors will not be accepted if you lose.”

“Unless I possess another unaligned estate,” smiled Lord Marak.

The mediator cocked his head and studied Lord Marak for a moment. “That is not an issue which will be addressed today,” decided the emissary. “We are here to discuss only Fardale. Lord Ridak, state your complaint.”

“My complaint is simple,” Lord Ridak began. “Marak is a soldier in the Situ Army and the son of a Situ slave. He was given the position of Lord of Fardale as a temporary measure until such time as I could find a suitable replacement for Lord Lashendo who died unexpectedly. He has taken the position under those arrangements and has since ignored all requests and pleas for communication and payments due to the Situ Clan. He has negotiated settlements with other Clans without informing me, the Head of the Situ Clan. He has made sworn members of the Situ Clan swear allegiance to him in violation of their Vows of Service to me. He has forcibly ejected my Lord Marshal from my Fardale estate. He has invaded my home and stolen a prisoner and killed two guards in the process. He has refused my direct order to relinquish control of Fardale and, finally, he has attempted to break ties with the Situ Clan and institute himself as the Lord of a new and fictitious Clan. I demand the Lords Council restore my property and deliver Marak to me for punishment.”

“Very well,” nodded the emissary. “These are very serious charges, Lord Marak. Unless you can refute these charges, the Lords Council will have to do as Lord Ridak requests. What do you have to say?”

Lord Marak looked down at the notes he had scribbled and addressed the emissary. “I was a soldier in the Situ Army when I was offered the position as Lord of Fardale,” he began. “My mother used to be a Situ slave here in Lituk Valley. She is no longer here and she is no longer a slave. The fact that she is not here is known to both Lord Ridak and Lord Marshal Grefon. While Lord Lashendo did die unexpectedly, my appointment was not temporary. If it was meant to be temporary, I was lied to because I was told that it was permanent.”