Aakuta: the Dark Mage (28 page)

“Halman, Gunta, and Latril,” Lord Marak said as he entered the room, “you will be joining me for a trip into the city. I have heard about a house for sale and would like to inspect it.”

Gunta and Halman immediately retrieved their weapons and strapped them on. Gunta brought Lord Marak’s weapons to him.

“Botal,” Lord Marak continued as he strapped on his own weapons, “I want the rest of the men to mingle with the other troops before they leave for home. Try to make some friends that we can use for future contacts. I would be especially interested in a contact at the main Neju estate. I want to know who Lord Jamarat’s main advisors are.”

Botal nodded and Lord Marak and his escort left the room. A group of lords stood in the foyer outside the Assembly Chamber, and Lord Marak’s group had to pass through them. Marak felt a slight warming sensation on his shoulder. He stopped just past the group and turned to look at them. His hand reached over his shoulder and felt the hilt of his sword. It was warm to his touch. His eyes scanned the large group of lords, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary. He shook his head and continued towards the entry foyer. He did not notice Lord Damirath’s eyes burning with hatred behind his back.

Lord Marak left the Imperial Palace and strode through the large park and towards the marketplace. As they entered the marketplace, someone shouted that the new member of the Lords’ Council was coming. Lord Marak was unprepared for the onslaught.

Dozens of people raced towards Lord Marak and soon the large crowd encircled him. Women tried to kiss his hand or shove flowers into his hair. Men tried eagerly to be the one to shake the Lord Marak’s hand. Halman and Gunta tried furiously to remain next to Lord Marak without harming the mass of admirers. It was a losing battle. People started shoving, and Halman and Gunta became more adamant about maintaining security.

Within moments, the Imperial guards stationed around the marketplace rushed to disperse the group. The Imperial guards were not gentle as they forcibly pulled people away from Lord Marak. Latril was grabbed by an Imperial guard and shoved away from Lord Marak. Other citizens were pushed and shoved, some of them sprawling on the ground only to be stepped upon by others.

“Make way,” shouted Gunta as he and Halman moved in front of Lord Marak and tried to force a path through the crowd.

The Imperial troops worked their way towards Lord Marak, clearing away the citizens. Suddenly, Lord Marak felt a jab in his back. He involuntarily leaped forward, knocking into Gunta. Gunta spun and saw a look of pain on Lord Marak’s face. He immediately drew his sword from his sheath and shouted for everyone to get away. Halman also drew his sword, and the crowd ran away screaming.

Lord Marak’s face was sweating and Gunta sheathed his sword and wrapped his arms around Lord Marak because he feared that the Torak lord might fall. The Imperial troops formed a protective ring around the three Torak warriors and kept the citizens away. Halman sheathed his sword and shook his head as he gazed at the debris upon the ground. Flowers with broken stems, jewelry, and pieces of cloth littered the ground, but his eyes were immediately drawn to the dagger. He raced to the dagger and picked it up. Its blade was coated with a brown substance.

“Assassin,” Halman shouted to Gunta. “Get him somewhere safe. Now!”

Gunta hoisted Lord Marak over his shoulder and dashed towards the nearest inn. The Imperial troops that had made a ring around the trio had heard Halman’s warning. They saw where Gunta was heading, and they pushed the crowd out of the way. Halman sprinted past Gunta and threw open the door to the common room. He drew his sword menacingly and ordered everyone out the back door. The few patrons in the common room fled as Gunta entered the inn.

Gunta placed Lord Marak face down on one of the tables. Halman ran to the front door and ordered the Imperial guards to surround the building. They immediately obeyed. Gunta saw the hole in Lord Marak’s cape and frowned.

“He has been stabbed,” Gunta announced, “but the hole is small. I doubt it can be too bad.”

“Get his clothes off,” ordered Halman. “The blade was poisoned.”

  “What type of poison?” asked Lord Marak with a pained voice.

“The blade is brown,” answered Halman as he helped Gunta remove Marak’s clothes.

“It is not quick acting,” Lord Marak sighed with relief. “Cut the affected area out quickly.”

“I never saw the innkeeper or the kitchen staff leave,” commented. Halman. “Unless they have a door to the outside from kitchen, they will still be in there. I will get some water boiled up.”

Gunta merely nodded as he removed the Qubari armor from Lord Marak’s back. He ran his fingers over the Torak lord’s back until he found the cut.

“It is small,” he remarked.

“Amazing,” commented Lord Marak. “The force of the blow was quite staggering. I shudder to think what would have happened without the Qubari armor.”

“You would be dead,” frowned Gunta. “You can no longer move about with just the two of us for an escort. We failed you today.”

“You have not failed me yet,” Lord Marak tried to smile. “I did not expect such a reaction from the citizens. Do you think it is normal for this to happen to someone who is elected to the Lords’ Council?”

“I do not know,” answered Gunta, “but I intend to find out.”

Halman returned with a pot of boiling water, a sharp knife, and some clean pieces of cloth. The innkeeper looked nervously from the kitchen doorway.

“Come and help,” Gunta called to the innkeeper.

The old man hurried across the room.

“Is it poison?” he asked.

“It is,” nodded Gunta. “We must cut the flesh around it and removed the poisoned area.”

“There is a better way,” the innkeeper offered nervously. “May I return to the kitchen?”

Gunta stared at the old man for a moment and then nodded. “Be aware that your life is tied to Lord Marak’s,” he warned the innkeeper. “If he dies, you do as well.”

The old man nodded as he ran into the kitchen. He came right back with two small pouches of powder. Gunta watched as the old man dipped a rag into the boiling water and proceeded to wash the contaminated area. He then sprinkled a white powder on the wound.

“This will draw the poison to the surface,” the innkeeper said. “It will draw a fair amount of blood as well so do not be alarmed at the bleeding.”

Halman and Gunta watched as the wound began to bubble through the white powder. Within a few minutes, there was a brownish clump of substance on Lord Marak’s back. Gunta thought it resembled dark oatmeal. The innkeeper took another cloth and wiped the mass away. He poured a small amount of hot water on the wound and then opened the other pouch. He sprinkled a yellow powder on the wound and walked over to the fireplace and procured a burning stick.

“This will ignite,” he cautioned. “Do not be worried. It will seal the wound so it does not become infected.”

He brought the burning stick to the yellow powder and a flame leaped from Lord Marak’s back. Lord Marak grunted in pain, but the fire extinguish quickly.

“You are fortunate that it was such a small incision,” commented the innkeeper. “He will be fine in an hour or two.”

“Where did you learn this skill?” asked Lord Marak as he struggled to turn over and sit up.

“I learned in my youth,” answered the innkeeper. “There were many assassinations in Khadoratung at that time. Not like today. Use of poison was a favorite, so that you did not need to be very skilled to kill. I was an apprentice to a healer in those days. I have always kept pouches of the powders ever since. Never got to use them until today.”

“Well I am fortunate to have been close to your inn,” smiled Lord Marak. “You have saved my life.”

“Not really,” smiled the old man. “What your boys were about to do would work just as well. This just avoids taking a chunk of your flesh away. It also heals you quicker so you can continue fighting.”

“Well, I am still grateful,” smiled Lord Marak. “How can I repay you?”

“Take seats,” grinned the old man. “I will bring out today’s best meal for the three of you. I am just pleased to be able to serve the newest member of the Lords’ Council.”

“Is it common for people to mob a new member?” asked Lord Marak. “I certainly did not expect it.”

“It is not common,” frowned the innkeeper. “I would suspect that someone organized it in order to get close to you. The people are easily aroused. I can see someone having no difficulty in getting others to mob you, but that is something citizens would not dare do without prompting. I guess people don’t like to think much for themselves these days. They are herded like clova.”

“So we must look for the shepherd,” Lord Marak remarked softly when the innkeeper had returned to the kitchen. “Someone had to instigate that welcome for me. If we can find those who were in the crowd, we will know the identity of the assassin.”

“I will go out and find Latril,” offered Halman. “I doubt the Imperial troops will allow her through their ring of protection. Should I send for the rest of our men?”

“No,” Lord Marak shook his head. “There will not be a repeat of the attack today. The next time we travel in public, my enemies will be surprised to see a full squad as my escort.”

Lord Marak dressed and sat at a table with Gunta. Several minutes later, Halman returned with Latril.

“The Imperial guards are removing the ring of protection,” Halman stated. “They will leave two men at each door, but the rest will return to their patrols.”

“That is fine,” nodded Lord Marak. “Our enemy knows that we will be alert now. He will not chance it again today. Are you all right, Latril?”

“I am fine,” nodded Latril. “The Imperial troops were a little rough in disbanding the crowd, but I think everyone understood. Are you hurt?”

“Not really,” smiled Lord Marak. “How large was the hole, Gunta?”

“Just the very tip of the blade,” Gunta replied. “If it was not poisoned, it would not have been worth bothering with.”

The innkeeper returned with three plates of wasooki and saw Latril had joined the group. He hurried back to the kitchen and brought out a fourth plate for her.

“Where are we heading?” asked Halman. “Maybe I can go on ahead and check out the area.”

“There is a broker just a few doors down,” Lord Marak stated. “Stay and eat. We will travel together.”

“They have a back door,” offered the innkeeper. “There will be very few people out back this time of day.”

Lord Marak nodded and the Toraks finished their meal. Lord Marak issued a script for a thousand gold and handed it to the innkeeper as he left. The innkeeper smiled broadly as he held the door open for Lord Marak.

The group passed through the two Imperial guards and moved swiftly to the broker’s back door. They entered the office and the broker greeted them with a friendly smile. Lord Marak walked to a map hanging on the wall, which depicted the city of Khadoratung and showed all of the buildings in the city.

“Is there a particular section of the city you are looking to invest in?” asked the broker.

Lord Marak put his finger on the map and pointed to a building not far from the side of the Imperial Palace.

“I have heard that this building is for sale,” Lord Marak stated. “I would like to visit it.”

“Certainly,” nodded the broker, “but it is hardly fit for the residence of a member of the Lords’ Council, Lord Marak.”

“Why not?” questioned the Torak lord. “It is close to the palace.”

“Yes,” frowned the broker. “It is close, but it hardly is befitting your station. As you can see, the building fronts on two parallel streets, but only half of it is a residence. The other half hosts a tavern. It was the house of a merchant, and he rented the tavern portion out, but you would have to make major renovations to restore it to one dwelling. I have properties for sale that are much better for your purpose.”

“Perhaps,” responded Lord Marak, “but I will see this one first. Give me the keys, and we shall go examine it. If it is not suitable, I will let you show me others.”

“Very well, Lord Marak,” sighed the broker as he opened a drawer and handed the keys to Lord Marak. “I did warn you.”

They walked out the back door of the broker’s office. Another man dressed as a Torak soldier was waiting for them. Lord Marak nodded to Fisher as the spy casually joined the group as they walked the few blocks over to inspect the building. No words were spoken until they had entered the old house.

“I heard that you had a bit of a problem in the marketplace,” Fisher said softly. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” nodded Lord Marak as his eyes gazed about the old structure. “Is this the house that you wanted me to see?”

“It is,” chuckled Fisher. “I know it does not look like much, but you will see why I recommended it. Come upstairs.”

The building was in an older part of Khadoratung, and it was four stories tall with a basement underneath it. Fisher led the way to the top floor.

“Look out the window,” smiled Fisher.

Lord Marak gazed out the window. The view of the front of the palace was over the roofs of the other houses on the block. He nodded in appreciation.

“There is more,” smiled Fisher. “The building used to stretch through to the next street, but a merchant divided it and had a tavern put in the other half.”

“So the broker mentioned,” nodded Lord Marak.

“They closed up everything that connects the two except the basement,” Fisher continued. “That door is merely locked on both sides.”

“How does that help me?” asked Lord Marak.

“It allows you to have people come and go without being seen,” grinned Fisher. “I have already talked to the tavern owner. He is old and willing to sell his business. If you could arrange for a free man to buy the tavern business, it would never be tied to you.”

“And spies could go to the tavern and end up in my home,” nodded Lord Marak. “That does have merit.”

“There is also an unimpeded view of the rear of the palace from above the tavern,” added Fisher. “Right now the tavern owner lives above the tavern. The two floors above him are empty and unused. You could modify the structure so that your upper floors ran across the whole building and no one would be the wiser.”