Aakuta: the Dark Mage (19 page)

Latril wove an air tunnel to Fardale as she sat next to Lord Marak on one of the benches. When she made the connection there was a short pause while someone summoned Lord Marshal Yenga.

“Are you safe?” asked the Lord Marshal.

“I am,” answered Lord Marak. “I may be stirring up a hornet’s nest here, but I do not feel in danger yet.”

“Well you are,” replied Yenga. “Our troops successfully turned the tables on the ambushers. Your enemy is Lord Patel of the Nordon clan, and he is a member of the Lords’ Council.”

“Do we have a prisoner who will talk?” questioned Lord Marak.

“We have two,” Yenga responded, “but there is more. When our troops were cleaning up and interrogating the prisoners, they were interrupted by a mediator from the Lords’ Council. It was Katzu, the one who came to Watula Valley over the Sorgan conflict.”

“I remember him,” responded Lord Marak. “So is this knowledge public now?”

“No,” Yenga replied with a suppressed chuckle. “Katzu is a witness and has promised not to divulge the information until he hears from you. I think that might help you in negotiations with the Lords’ Council.”

“There may not be negotiations,” frowned Lord Marak. “What estate did the ambushers come from?”

“They are from the main estate of the Nordon clan,” answered the Lord Marshal, “but they used a small Nordon estate to launch the attack. It is located near Deep Bend.”

“What is the size of the Nordon forces posted there?” inquired the Torak lord.

“Around two cortes,” answered Yenga. “It is a minor Nordon estate. It is primarily an apple orchard although they do grow some other crops. Lord Patel does not bother with large detachments at his smaller estates. Common thinking is nobody would be fool enough to attack a member of the Lords’ Council.”

“Once again I believe we will shatter common thinking,” vowed Lord Marak.

“Think long and hard about this, Lord Marak,” warned Lord Marshal Yenga. “You will be inviting open warfare with a member of the Lords’ Council. His armies are large enough to crush all of your clans. You may temporarily hold one of his small estates, but he will crush you.”

“Have the two cortes that were sent with the caravan regroup near Deep Bend,” ordered Lord Marak. “They are to stay out of sight and keep in contact with you. Their mage is to speak to you twice daily. Is that understood?”

“It is,” Lord Marshal Yenga replied with worry in his voice. “There is more. Fisher reported that several eastern estates are flush with Jiadin warriors. He spotted at least three estates overflowing with Jiadin. He estimates around five thousand per estate. Is there a chance that someone is trying to continue Grulak’s plan?”

“I don’t know,” Lord Marak replied as he heard footsteps approaching. “Try to find out.”

Lord Marak signaled Latril, and she changed the pressure in the air tunnel so that Lord Marshal Yenga could still hear, but his voice would not come through. She didn’t want him to be concerned with an abrupt ending to the conversation.

“Lord Marak,” greeted the Imperial soldier. “I have been sent to notify you that Emperor Bagora would like to see you. You can go up the staircase nearest the entrance to the palace when you get back inside. At the top of the staircase, turn to the left. Do you require an escort?”

“No,” Lord Marak shook his head as he stood. “Your directions should be good enough. Latril, return to our quarters, and I will return there shortly.”

Even though he had not requested an escort, the Imperial soldier accompanied Lord Marak as far as the back entrance to the palace. When Lord Marak went up the stairs, the Imperial soldier went down, presumably to get some food.

Lord Marak wondered what the Emperor would say to him when he arrived. The small amount of talking the Emperor had done during the morning session had revealed little about the man. The Torak lord was quite curious.

As Lord Marak reached the top of the staircase, he heard voices in the distance. He turned to his left and walked along a broad corridor with a number of doorways opening off of it. Lord Marak could see two Imperial soldiers standing halfway down the corridor. They appeared to be standing guard outside a doorway and Lord Marak assumed that is where the Emperor would be found. He strode purposely towards the guards.

Before Lord Marak reached the doorway, Emperor Bagora and Lord Woton stepped out of the room as if they were on their way to a meeting. They were talking to each other in a friendly and jovial manner. Lord Marak frowned at being asked to a meeting and then abandoned. He shook his head in confusion as he gazed at the floor.

Suddenly, the air sang with the twirling of a star. Lord Marak’s head snapped up in time to see the projectile sink into the neck of Lord Woton. Lord Woton screamed briefly before he fell to the floor. Everything happened at once. One Imperial guard dove at the Emperor, knocking his body back out of the corridor and into the room he had been leaving. Lord Marak spun around in search of the assassin, while the second Imperial guard ran and tackled Lord Marak.

Lord Marak wondered what was going on as running footsteps pounded from every direction.

“I’ve caught him,” shouted the Imperial guard. “Get help immediately.”

The door to the Torak quarters in the Imperial Palace burst open, and Imperial soldiers filed in with swords drawn. Botal leaped to his feet, but an Imperial soldier held a sword to his chest.

“Nobody moves,” shouted an Imperial soldier with gold trim on his uniform. “If you move, you die.”

The Torak soldiers remained unmoving as the Imperial soldiers began gathering the Torak weapons and carrying them out of the room.

“Who are you, and why are you here?” asked Squad Leader Botal

“I am Marshal Chack of the Imperial Army,” declared the soldier with gold trim. “My men are removing your weapons so that none of your men do anything foolish.”

“And why would my men disobey the orders that weapons remain in our quarters?” questioned Botal. “None of them have violated any rules so far.”

“That may be so,” shrugged the Imperial Marshal, “but your lord has. He has attempted to assassinate the Emperor.”

“That is preposterous,” frowned Botal. “Lord Marak has no reason to wish harm upon the Emperor. And even if he did, he would never act in a dishonorable fashion. You are wrong.”

“He also wouldn’t miss,” interjected Halman. “You said he attempted to kill the Emperor. The fact that the Emperor lives should be proof enough that Lord Marak is not the one that you seek.”

“Be quiet, Halman,” Botal said sharply. “Marshal Chack, I implore you to investigate this affair thoroughly before condemning Lord Marak. I know my lord well, and I will guarantee that he wishes Emperor Bagora no harm.”

“You may rest assured that my investigation will be thorough,” declared Marshal Chack as he picked up a Sakovan star from the desk, “but you may want to rethink your evaluation of Lord Marak. He was captured at the site of the attack, and Lord Woton was slain with one of these.”

“Marshal,” frowned Botal, “Lord Marak normally carries three of those stars in his waistband. When we arrived here and were told to leave our weapons, he deposited them on the desk. Last night when we returned from the evening meal, one was missing. I think somebody is trying to make it look like Lord Marak is the culprit.”

“Why was this supposed theft not reported?” asked Marshal Chack.

“A star is hardly a valuable item,” shrugged Botal. “Besides there are supposedly only two keys to this room. I had one, and Lord Marak had the other. There were no signs that anyone broke in. Who would have believed that someone entered this room only to steal an insignificant star?”

“I can give no credence to your report,” Chack said. “There is no proof to your story, and it is too convenient after you learned of the assassination.”

“Are my men to be imprisoned then?” inquired Botal.

“No,” Chack shook his head. “The removal of your weapons is for your protection. Many a soldier would be expected to do some foolish thing to free his lord. I strongly advise against it, but you are free to come and go as you please. If you wish to leave the palace, inform me and your weapons will be returned outside the building.”

Marshal Chack picked up the last star and left the suite. Botal closed the door and turned to face his men.

“I do not want any of you do anything foolish,” sighed Botal. “That goes double for you two,” he added as he stared at Halman and Gunta. “I know what your first reaction is, but we must think things out before we act.”

“It is obvious that someone has planned this well,” responded Gunta. “We will not do anything foolish, but we will not allow Lord Marak to be executed either. We need a plan to find the real culprit.”

“Agreed,” nodded Botal. “Latril, report to Fardale and seek instructions from Lord Marshal Yenga. Halman, notify the other lords who owe allegiance to Lord Marak. I want word of this to come from us before they hear of it elsewhere. Gunta, you and I need to look at our drawings. I want to know where they are keeping Lord Marak.” 

* * *

Mistake ran through the crowd of the marketplace as she sought StarWind or HawkShadow. Tears flowed from her eyes, and her vision became blurry. She stopped to wipe her eyes and felt a hand touch her shoulder.

“Why are you crying?” StarWind asked softly.

“Haven’t you heard?” sobbed Mistake. “There was an assassination attempt on the Emperor.”

“We heard,” HawkShadow said from the shadow of the alley. “The news is all over the marketplace. I heard one of the members of the Lords’ Council died instead. Do you know the Emperor? Is that why you are crying?”

“No,” Mistake shook her head. “They said it was Lord Marak who tried to kill the Emperor. They have arrested him. Now everything we have worked for is ruined.”

StarWind gasped audibly and bit her lip. “This is trouble,” she said a moment later. “The lords will tear Marak limb from limb.”

“No they won’t,” HawkShadow said with determination. “I won’t give them the chance.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Mistake with a glint of hope in her eye.

“I am going to get him out of the palace,” HawkShadow said. “He has become as important to us as he is to Khadorans. I would not doubt that General Didyk is behind this.”

“How are we going to get him out?” inquired Mistake.

HawkShadow emerged from the alley and stared at the small Fakaran. “We are not going to get him out,” HawkShadow declared. “I am. This is no time to start teaching you what you need to know. You are best off pretending that you do not know us. The Imperial troops may be searching for us before the day is out. Come, StarWind, we have work to do and not much time to do it.”

Mistake scowled at the Sakovans as they hurried away. She kicked a stone in anger as she stormed about being left out of the attempt to free Lord Marak.

“So you think Sakovans are better than Fakarans,” Mistake whispered bitterly to herself. “We will see about that. Perhaps you will change your attitude when you find Lord Marak’s cell empty when you get there.”

Mistake dried her tears with a cloth and then composed herself. She forced a smile onto her face and made her way to Wendal’s stall.

“You seem happy this morning,” greeted Wendal. “I trust the Wine Press meets with your expectations.”

“Very much so,” smiled Mistake.

“So what do you have planned for today?” Wendal asked absentmindedly as he arranged the items on his table.

“I thought I would tour the Imperial Palace,” Mistake answered cheerily.

“You had better think again,” frowned Wendal. “You will not be allowed into the palace. Besides, there is disturbing news from there. Someone tried to assassinate the Emperor.”

“No,” Mistake said with feigned shock. “Why would anybody do that? I thought everybody loved the Emperor.”

“Evidently not,” shrugged Wendal as he watched Mistake for a reaction. “Some say that Lord Marak is the one who tried it.”

“Well I hope they caught him,” frowned Mistake. “There is enough killing in the world already. It certainly shouldn’t happen in a fine city like Khadoratung.”

“No it shouldn’t,” agreed Wendal. “I guess you will have to change your plans.”

“No,” Mistake shook her head. “I can’t. Rejji made such a big deal out of seeing the palace when he was here that I told him I would let him know what the inside looked like. I cannot go back in failure.”

“I am sure that he will understand,” shrugged Wendal. “He wouldn’t want you hurt or killed for trying to sneak in.”

“I was kind of hoping that you would know a way for me to get inside,” pouted Mistake.

“Me?” chuckled Wendal. “What makes you think I could get you inside?”

“You enjoy a challenge,” grinned Mistake. “Admit it. If you were in my position, would you return to Fakara without seeing the inside of the palace?”

“Probably not,” laughed Wendal. “Still the timing is not good for such a prank.”

“I will not get another chance before I leave,” pleaded Mistake. “All I have to do is pop inside and back out again. How would you do it?”

“I would make them think I belonged inside,” Wendal thought out loud. “Actually, the days of the Assembly are the best time to do it. Every clan is represented inside. The guards cannot possibly check everyone thoroughly.”

“What do they look for when you go up to the door?” asked Mistake.

“Clan colors,” answered Wendal. “Either you are a soldier or lord wearing the clan colors, or you have a pin that identifies your clan. Not all pins would get you inside, though. You would need an appropriate one and a good story to go along with it. When Rejji was here he wore such a pin that identified him as the bursar’s boy.”

“I remember him telling me that you wanted very badly to purchase it,” nodded Mistake. “Do you have any?”

Wendal hesitated just a moment too long, and Mistake knew the answer to the question. Her lips spread wide in a big grin.

“How much?” she asked.

“I don’t sell them,” protested Wendal. “I collect them.”

“Well how much to rent one?” Mistake persisted. “I won’t need it for long.”