Aakuta: the Dark Mage (46 page)

“You think these Jiadin invasions are that much of a threat to Khadora?” inquired Lord Chenowith.

“No,” Lord Marak shook his head. “The invasions are only the beginning. They are meant to bring chaos to Khadora so that our armies will not be able to respond to the real threat.”

“And what is this real threat?” asked Lord Chenowith.

“I do not know for sure,” frowned Lord Marak. “I know it is an evil that we are incapable of imagining. I know this sounds crazy, but given enough time I could show you what I mean. There are ancient prophecies that have predicted the battles that we will have to endure. The prophecies explain the signs of the times, and those signs are now showing up.”

“What kind of signs?” asked Lord Kiamesh.

“Grulak was one of the signs,” answered Lord Marak. “Since the founding of Khadora and Omunga, the people have been forbidden to marry the indigenous peoples of the land. These prohibitions were put in place to protect us from a failed magic. The prophecies spoke of a Time of Calling. It means that someone would intermarry with the indigenous peoples and ancient memories would be restored. Those memories would call the evil to this land. Grulak was a half-breed. His mother was Qubari.”

“Magic is nonsense,” scowled Lord Quilo. “You cannot shape the future of a country on ancient prophecies and magic.”

“Can’t you?” retorted Lord Marak. “The magic that you call nonsense blasted a hole in the prison where I was kept. I have spoken to Fakarans who described the mage that ruled over Grulak. The man was not human as you and I define the term. He was a magical being. When he died, his body ceased to exist. There was nothing left but his clothes. How would your armies battle that, Lord Quilo?”

“If it is true,” shrugged Lord Quilo. “Are you so quick to accept the word of a Fakaran?”

“I have seen similar beings myself,” answered Lord Marak. “I know there is doubt in your minds, but I am not trying to push my views upon you on this matter. I ask only that you keep an open mind. I will find a way to prove my words to you in the future.”

“But you are trying to press your ideas in dealing with the Jiadin,” responded Lord Chenowith. “I understand you came before the Lords’ Council yesterday in an appeal for troops to aid the Balomar.”

“Quite true,” nodded Lord Marak. “Troops are desperately needed out there. I had a brief talk just moments ago with the four lords of the eastern frontier who have Jiadin warriors. I am sure that they will combine their forces now. That is twenty thousand Jiadin that will be attacking Lord Oktar. Emperor Mirakotto has forbidden the council to come to my aid even though there is provocation.”

“You have troops out there now?” asked Lord Chenowith.

“I do,” conceded Lord Marak.

“What other clans have troops out there?” pushed Lord Chenowith. “And do not try to avoid the question, Lord Marak.”

Lord Marak frowned as he stared at Lord Chenowith. He had never met Bagora’s son before, but he was getting the feeling that Chenowith didn’t care for him much. Still, there was little point in hiding the clans that were out there. With the coming casualties, everyone would know soon anyways.

“There are six clans represented out there besides the Balomar,” answered Lord Marak. “The Torak, Sorgan, Litari, Situ, Ragatha, and Nordon clans have soldiers ready to fight.”

“The Nordon?” questioned Lord Quilo as he looked expectantly at Lord Patel.

“Why are you men out there, Lord Patel?” asked Lord Chenowith.

“They are needed,” answered Lord Patel. “I have contributed two cortes from each of my estates, as did each of the other clans.”

“Why did you commit troops out there in the first place?” asked Lord Chenowith

“Because Lord Marak asked me to,” Lord Patel sighed in frustration. “Just where are you going with all of these questions. I do not probe into your clan dealings.”

“Just one more question,” Lord Chenowith said as he stared into Lord Patel’s eyes. “If Lord Marak never existed, would your troops be out there today?”

“Yes,” Lord Patel shook his head. “I mean no. Let me explain. If Lord Marak had not requested my troops, I would never have been wise enough to know that they were needed, but knowing the situation as I do now, then yes, I would have sent my troops. The Jiadin must be stopped at all costs. I know that is hard to see as we sit in the safety of the Imperial Valley, but this safety is an illusion. The Jiadin will grow and grow as they eat up more clans. It is much better to stop them now while they are only twenty thousand strong.”

“Only twenty thousand?” echoed Lord Quilo. “That is over three hundred cortes. There is no army in Khadora that is anywhere near that size.”

“I really must insist an end to this questioning, Lord Chenowith,” stated Lord Marak. “Satisfying your curiosity is not worth the risk that my people might have to endure.”

“Oh this is about more than just my curiosity, Lord Marak,” countered Lord Chenowith. “There is a matter of legalities here. I understand that you assured the Lords’ Council that you had a legal right to be on the Balomar estate. What is Lord Patel’s legal right to be there? Or Lord Sevrin’s? Or any of the others?”

“What does it matter now?” retorted Lord Marak. “The Emperor has refused my request to the Lords’ Council. The men at the Balomar estate will die in the coming week. Does it really matter to you if they were there legally?”

“It does,” insisted Lord Chenowith. “It matters a great deal. Tell us how you can legally claim to be at the Balomar estate and have all of these other clans there with you.”

“I will not,” Lord Marak shook his head. “Ask me after next week and perhaps I will tell you.”

“So you plan to return to the Balomar estate yourself?” asked Lord Chenowith.

“I do,” nodded Lord Marak. “I would never ask my people to do something that I fear to do myself. I will be there with them.”

“All the more reason to tell us now then,” insisted Lord Chenowith. “Seeing as you won’t be around later to tell us.”

“I will say nothing more, Lord Chenowith,” declared Lord Marak. “I have indulged your curiosity to a fault. I do not wish to be rude, but it is not in my interests to speak more of this.”

“I have done something that I am very ashamed of, Lord Marak,” the Walkan lord said. “My father, Emperor Bagora, was a student of history. As such, he saved every scrap of paper that passed through his hands. He also kept a daily journal of both his meetings and his private thoughts. He would periodically send those papers home in a locked box. In the despair that followed my father’s death, I dared to open the last box he sent home. I know he would chastise me for it if he were alive today, but he is not.”

“Please don’t take this further, Lord Chenowith,” pleaded Lord Marak. “My meetings with your father were quite private.”

Lord Quilo and Lord Kiamesh sat on the edges of their chairs, their eyes glued to Lord Chenowith with anticipation.

“I must, Lord Marak,” Lord Chenowith continued. “I spent the entire night reading his journal. You are mentioned many times in it. In fact, as the night wore on, I became quite bitter that my father thought more of you than he did of me.”

“That is not fair,” protested Lord Marak. “I am sure that your father loved you dearly. Do not think poorly of him based upon some sporadic writings.”

“I do not think poorly of him, Lord Marak,” countered Lord Chenowith. “My father was the greatest man I have ever known. The point is, I know the reason that your presence out there is considered legal. I think the rest of the lords here have a right to know as well. They have the right to know whom they are dealing with. The question is, are you going to tell them, or am I?”

“I can only ask you not to,” sighed Lord Marak as he shook his head. “If you read your father’s words, then you understand why I have done what I have done. It is not for my own glory that I have acted, but rather the security of our country.”

“Tell us already,” interrupted Lord Quilo. “What secret dealings are going on?”

“Very well,” shrugged Lord Chenowith. “Lord Oktar swore Vows of Service to Lord Marak so that the Torak lord would be able to station troops on his estate.”

“Vows of Service to another lord?” questioned Lord Kiamesh. “How can that work?”

“It works quite well actually,” declared Lord Chenowith. “Lord Marak learned this trick early in his career as a lord. You see, all of the other clans out there also gave Vows of Service to Lord Marak.”

“Even the Nordon?” gasped Lord Kiamesh. “Is this true, Lord Patel?”

“It is true,” nodded Lord Patel.

“Why?” asked Lord Kiamesh.

“Each of the clans attacked Lord Marak,” explained Lord Chenowith, “and each of them lost. Now Lord Marak thinks this is something to be hidden. He thinks that some lords will find fault with his method of solving disputes. Instead of conquering his foes and crushing their armies, Lord Marak negotiates them into surrender and then assumes a patriarchal role over them. That is the reason for the serenity and prosperity of the southern frontier.”

“That is remarkable,” Lord Quilo said in surprise. “That is why the Situ no longer threaten the Morgar, and the Litari no longer speak ill of the Ragatha. Amazing, simply amazing.”

“What an ingenious way to solve difficulties,” nodded Lord Kiamesh. “Tell me, Lord Patel, how does it work?”

“Quite well actually,” Lord Patel said. “I was quite opposed to the idea at first, as you can imagine, but until now, I have found it enlightening.”

“Why until now?” asked Lord Chenowith.

“Your exposing our arrangements will have consequences, Lord Chenowith,” sighed Lord Marak. “There are some powerful lords who will use this information to my detriment.”

“Perhaps,” nodded Lord Chenowith, “but none of them are in this room.”

“Are you saying that you are willing to keep these arrangements secret?” asked Lord Patel.

“I am,” nodded Lord Chenowith. “I am sorry to put you through this, Lord Marak, but you are asking these lords to put armies under your control. Is it not reasonable that they should know the truth about you?”

“The arrangements have been secret to protect those who have sworn to me more than anything else,” replied Lord Marak. “The hardest part of swearing to another lord is the embarrassment of having lost control of your clan, although those who have sworn to me know that this is not the case. I exercise very little control over the clans. Pride is one of the greatest problems this country faces. It makes it almost impossible for us to unite.”

“Besides,” Lord Patel interjected, “you are not being asked to send troops. The Emperor will not allow it.”

“The night my father died,” Lord Chenowith said, “we talked extensively about this problem on the frontier. We discussed many things, but I finally asked him what he would do to solve the problem. His answer confused me greatly. I had no understanding of his words until I later read his journal.”

“What did he say he would do?” asked Lord Quilo.

“He said he would swear Vows of Service to Lord Marak and march his armies onto the Balomar estate,” declared Lord Chenowith. “That is what I am prepared to do, Lord Marak. I will have thirty cortes ready to depart in the morning.”

“You can’t be serious?” gasped Lord Kiamesh.

“There is no reason for the vows at this point, Lord Chenowith,” smiled Lord Marak. “A provocation has occurred. Your vows are no longer needed to move your troops. The law is with us even if the Emperor is not.”

“You may count on my armies as well, Lord Marak,” declared Lord Quilo. “You not only won the heart of Emperor Bagora, but my son as well. I respect Katzu more than I respect myself. You have just shown your true intent by rejecting vows from Lord Chenowith. I was merely waiting for some sign that your ambitions were truly for the good of Khadora and not yourself. You have provided that proof as Katzu knew you would.”

“Lord Kiamesh?” Lord Patel prompted with a grin on his face.

“You know me well enough, Patel,” smiled Lord Kiamesh. “As long as I do not have to offer vows to Lord Marak, there is little for me to think about. My armies will march for the good of Khadora. I, too, will offer up thirty cortes. I will endeavor to get them ready as soon as possible. Our combined armies will be as the heart of Khadora. We shall pump strength into those areas that need it.”

“We will still be badly outnumbered,” smiled Lord Chenowith, “but no longer are the Jiadin guaranteed victory. Let us show the rest of the country what the future of Khadora looks like. We shall be a nation where clans can work together to help one another.”

“Yargot,” complained the marshal, “have you no say in what Aakuta does? These Jiadin are savages. They trample our fields and abuse our women. They devour the food so quickly that we will run out of it before long. The Kamaril clan will be penniless within a fortnight.”

“Aakuta is lord of the Kamaril clan,” declared Yargot. “Without him, we would no longer be a clan. Never forget that he saved my life. How can I complain when his men eat our food?”

“He saved your life, but he was well paid for it,” argued the marshal. “Letting him ruin the estate is not serving your people well.”

“I gave my word to him,” Yargot said adamantly. “Would you serve a lord whose word means nothing?”

“No,” conceded the marshal, “but surely you can talk to Aakuta and make him see what these filthy Jiadin are doing?”

“You should be careful of your criticisms of the Jiadin,” warned Yargot. “They do not appear to need much provocation to strike out at us.”

The Kamaril marshal nodded dutifully and sighed in exasperation. He turned and walked out of the room. Yargot also sighed and shook his head. While he had to justify Aakuta’s actions to his people, he also had great concerns for the welfare of the Kamaril people. He summoned up his courage and walked to the meeting room which Aakuta had taken over as his own.

“More complaints?” Aakuta asked without turning to face the door. “Why do you Khadorans whine so much? Do you begrudge the Fakarans the pleasantries you have taken for granted for so long?”

“Must they try to make up for their lack of it all in one day?” quipped Yargot. “An estate is the culmination of generations of hard work. Your Jiadin can tear it down in a fortnight. Can you not talk of moderation with them?”