Aakuta: the Dark Mage (38 page)

“The Nordon?” echoed Lord Oktar. “Are you saying that Lord Patel has given Vows of Service to you?”

“He has as have all of his people,” nodded Lord Marak.

“But he is a member of the Lords’ Council,” protested Lord Oktar. “How can that be?”

“I do not absorb other clans if I can help it,” explained Lord Marak. “I believe each Khadoran clan has a rich heritage of its own. I think they should continue as independent clans.”

“Independent?” questioned Lord Oktar. “How can you be independent and owe allegiance to another?”

“Do you have allegiance to the Lords’ Council?” asked Lord Marak.

“Of course,” nodded Lord Oktar.

“And to the Emperor?” pushed Lord Marak.

“As all clans must,” agreed Lord Oktar.

“Then what is the difference?” prompted Lord Marak. “Your clan will still be distinct. Think of me as another level of the government, except that I will send troops to protect you.”

“The Torak clan is small,” pondered Lord Oktar. “How many troops can you really spare, and will they be enough to matter?”

“Both are good questions,” replied Lord Marak. “I will draw forces from all of the clans sworn to me. I will not draw so many that the defense of any other estate is threatened, but I think I can put together a rather potent force. Will it be enough? I am not sure. It will certainly be enough to prevent a quick demise of your estate. It will be enough to allow you to call upon the Lords’ Council for a mediator, but I cannot promise to destroy all of the Jiadin. The Glamaraldi are only one clan who is using these foreigners to steal land. If the other clans join with the Glamaraldi, we will be in trouble.”

“Your answer is not sweetened, Lord Marak,” sighed Lord Oktar. “I appreciate such candidness, but give me an estimate of the number of troops you are willing to commit.”

“If I pull two cortes off each estate,” Lord Marak mentally calculated, “I could bring three thousand men.”

Lord Oktar was silent for a long time before he finally nodded. “You have yourself a deal, Lord Marak,” he said. “My people will swear Vows of Service to you in return for your protection. Katzu was correct, by the way, of holding this talk here. Had we spoken anywhere outside the Emperor’s presence, I would be refusing your offer. I know Bagora well, and if he has faith in you, then so do I. Please do not let me down, Lord Marak.”

“I will not let you down,” promised Lord Marak. “I will make arrangement today for the troops to start assembling. When are you leaving Khadoratung?”

“I will leave in the morning,” answered Lord Oktar.

“I will ride with you,” stated Lord Marak. “I will receive the vows from your people and be present on your estate until the armies arrive. If you are attacked prematurely, I will suffer your fate as well.”

“I can ask no more of a commitment from a man than to put his life in danger for me,” smiled Lord Oktar. “You have courage, Lord Marak.” The Balomar lord stood silent for a moment and then nodded to himself. “I have things to attend to while I am in the capital. I shall talk to you later about our journey tomorrow.”

Lord Oktar bowed deeply to the Emperor and left the room. Emperor Bagora chuckled after the door was closed.

“You are indeed a clever man, Lord Marak,” he said. “No, more than clever. Your use of the Vows of Service are ingenious, but the truth of your character lies in how you have managed your clans after the vows have been given. I know about the support you received from the clans who swore to you. They stood up for you when everyone else ostracized you. That, Lord Marak, speaks volumes about you. I wish I had that kind of loyalty from my followers. You are the type of Khadoran that inspires ballads.”

* * *

Werner led the small group of Jiadin along the base of the Fortung Mountains in Fakara. The sun was high, and the heat simmered off of the parched earth beneath the horses. Werner was a little glad that the heat was unbearable. The Jiadin had grumbled unmercifully until their throats were parched. Now they only opened their mouths to sip water. They were all quiet except the large one. He appeared to be too stupid to conserve his throat.

“Just where is this paradise?” Klavin bellowed. “Are we to ride all day?”

“Not much farther,” Werner replied softly.

“Not much farther?” echoed Klavin. “Did you hear that Gregnic? Not much farther he said. Do you see any paradise? I think he is lying to us.”

“At least you don’t think he is a spy,” Gregnic croaked weakly. “Be quiet and drink some water.”

Werner saw the rock shaped like a ram and turned abruptly. “We are almost there,” he announced.

The group perked up as their eyes scanned the horizon. Suddenly, one of the riders shouted when they saw the tall trees. Everyone started murmuring as Werner led them through the entrance to the valley. Even Werner was amazed at the improvements since his last visit.

Tall pine trees heralded the entrance to the valley. A bubbling spring fed a creek that flowed into the valley. The group sighed as they gained the coolness of the forest. Werner led them through the trees to an area that was rich in farmland. Mature fields spread away towards the horizon. Herds of wasooki and clova dotted the landscape, and a large stone castle sat in the middle of it all.

Jiadin were everywhere in the valley. They were tending the fields and the herds, cutting down trees, building corrals and buildings. Werner led the group towards the castle as members of the group shouted to Jiadin that they recognized. Waves were exchanged and the spirits of the group soared. The valley was indeed a paradise.

When they arrived at the stone castle, Aakuta was waiting for them. Werner introduced the newest arrivals, and ordered the group to dismount. Werner gathered the horses and tied them to a rail and returned to listen.

“What is this place?” asked Gregnic. “How come we have never heard of it?”

“This is my valley,” declared Aakuta. “You are welcome to a piece of it if you agree to my terms. I expect that Werner has explained everything to you?”

“One year of service for a piece of paradise,” nodded Gregnic as his eyes continued to take in the sights of the valley.

“What do we have to do?” asked Klavin.

“Whatever I tell you to do,” replied Aakuta. “You obey my orders and you get a permanent home in this valley with enough land to be happy for the rest of your days. If you disobey an order, you will die.”

“And who is going to kill us?” quipped Klavin. “You do not look like much of a fighter. We could just take this whole valley for ourselves.”

Aakuta pointed a finger at Klavin. The giant flew backwards and slammed to the ground. He groaned loudly as he struggled to get to his feet.

“Do not even think of betraying me,” snarled Aakuta. “I have no tolerance for fools.”

Gregnic hurried over to Klavin and quickly examined him for injuries. Klavin grumbled loudly, but he refused to meet Aakuta’s gaze. He kept his eyes glued to the ground as he made his way back to the group.

“You are pretty scrawny for a warrior,” scowled Aakuta as he pointed at Gregnic.

“I am a healer,” Gregnic declared.

“A healer? Echoed Aakuta. “Do you know magic?”

“No,” Gregnic shook his head. “I bandage wounds and tend to ills as best I can.”

“What good is that to me?” snarled Aakuta. “I want an army, not scrawny people.”

Gregnic gazed at the fertile valley and knew that he wanted to live there. He had spent too much time wandering Fakara and wondering where his next meal was going to come from. He was determined to make sure that he was not rejected.

“For one thing,” Gregnic responded, “I can gather Jiadin much better than Werner.”

“What is wrong with Werner?” asked the dark mage.

“He is Khadoran,” shrugged Gregnic. “The Jiadin have no use for Khadorans.”

“How did you know he was Khadoran?” inquired Aakuta.

“Everything about him is Khadoran,” answered Gregnic. “He rides a horse like a Khadoran. He walks and talks like a Khadoran. Even the way he stands erect tells everyone where he is from. Jiadin will avoid him when they see him, unless they think he is easy prey for an ambush.”

Aakuta gazed at Werner and nodded. The Khadoran’s posture was decidedly different. Werner stood erect as if he was standing before his lord. Aakuta slowly nodded.

“Then you will recruit Jiadin for me, Gregnic,” decided Aakuta. “Get them settled, Werner, and return to me.”

A pall of worry fell over Werner’s face as he led the new arrivals to the work hall. He showed them where they could bunk for the night and then introduced them to someone who would get them settled. He worried about losing his job as he returned to the castle. As he climbed the stone steps to Aakuta’s study, he wondered how he could discredit Gregnic.

“Come in, Werner,” Aakuta called before Werner’s hand even touched the door.

It always unnerved Werner when Aakuta did that. He opened the door and stepped into Aakuta’s study. Aakuta was gazing out the window and did not turn as Werner crossed the floor and sat down.

“Finding Gregnic was excellent,” Aakuta said as he turned his head to face Werner. “I have a different task for which you are better suited.”

“What is it?” asked Werner.

“I want an estate in Khadora,” Aakuta declared.

“You have a lot of gold,” frowned Werner, “but not near enough to buy an estate.”

“I did not say that I wanted to buy one,” snickered Aakuta. “I said that I wanted one. You are to return to Khadora and find one for me. It must be large enough to host our Jiadin friends that you have been bringing here.”

“How many of them?” asked Werner.

“Thousands of them,” replied the mage. “I don’t care what I have to do to obtain the estate, Werner. Just find me one that suits my purpose. You will recognize it when you see it.”

The cornfields were trampled as the soldiers ran through the rows and dove into the long earthen trenches. Some of the soldiers landed on their feet in the trenches, but others tumbled head over heel.

“No, no, no,” shouted Cortain Tagoro. “Everybody up and out of the trenches. We will do this over and over until you get it right.”

The soldiers grumbled and climbed out of the trenches. Their uniforms presented a rainbow of colors. From the orange and yellow of the Balomar clan to the green and white of the Nordon clan, all of the uniforms were covered in mud. Cortain Tagoro in the black and silver of the Torak clan was the only soldier not dirty.

“The first men into the trenches must immediately bring up their bows to target the enemy,” shouted Cortain Tagoro. “I did not see many bows readied that last time. Do you want the Jiadin to follow you into your trenches? If you are not ready for a retreat, that is exactly what they will do. Get back to the skirmish line, and for goodness sake, be mindful of the corn. I understand that during battle the corn will be ruined, but there is no reason to destroy it now. The attack may not be until after harvest, and the paths through the field are already plenty wide.”

The soldiers bowed their heads and grumbled under their breath as they trudged back through the field to the imaginary skirmish line.

“Stop!” shouted Lord Marak as he and Lord Oktar approached the exercise.

Everyone froze and turned towards the voice of the Torak lord.

“Tagoro, bring out your corte for a demonstration,” ordered Lord Marak. “Let these men rest and see what it is you are trying to teach then.”

Cortain Tagoro nodded as he waved the muddy men to the side of the trench opposite the cornfield. The men lined up and watched as a corte of black and silver soldiers marched into the field. They took up a position at the skirmish line, which was barely visible through the rows of corn. Suddenly, Cortain Tagoro blew a whistle.

One third of the Torak soldiers immediately turned and ran for the trench, sheathing their swords and unstrapping their bows as they ran. Another third mimicked the behavior of the first, but only retreated halfway before kneeling and nocking arrows. The last third acted as if they were still fighting some invisible enemy with their swords. After a short delay, the last third of the Torak soldiers turned and ran for the trench. They ran past their kneeling brethren and switched their swords for bows as they leaped into the trench and turned to fire at the nonexistent enemy. Finally, the men kneeling rose and also scrambled into the trench.

Lord Marak stepped forward and bowed exaggeratedly to the men in the trench. “That is an ordered retreat,” Lord Marak said loudly to the muddy men that were watching. “A retreat is not turning around and running for safety so that you will not be injured. A retreat is moving back to a fortified position in a synchronized manner that provides cover to save your fellow soldiers from getting injured. Always keep your mind on protecting the others. Someone else will be looking out for your welfare. Now get out there and try it again.”

The men of many clans leaped over the trenches and ran towards the skirmish line. The difference this time was one of attitude. The soldiers were excited to duplicate the artistry of the Torak retreat.

“Thank you, Lord Marak,” smiled Cortain Tagoro. “You have a way with words that escapes me.”

“Nonsense, Tagoro,” smiled Lord Marak, “I am just more rested. You have been training these men night and day for over a week now. You should assign someone to take your place for a day and get a healthy amount of sleep. Tiredness dulls the mind.”

“I will, Lord Marak,” saluted the cortain.

“Your troops are the best trained that I have ever seen,” commented Lord Oktar. “Marshal Berman has said as much to me earlier. Your men take their soldiering very seriously.”

“They will live or die depending upon their skill,” shrugged Lord Marak as he turned to head towards the mansion. “Your Marshal Berman has done a fine enough job with your army, considering that your clan is not aggressive, and there has been no real expectation of battle. Times are different now, though. Everyone must be prepared for the battle of their lives.”

“Do you really think we can win this, Lord Marak?” asked the Balomar lord as his marshal joined the group.