Latril latched onto Lord Marak’s air tunnel and adjusted it to work in both directions.
“The Sakovans and Mistake are here, too,” she reported.
“Get them out of the palace,” ordered Lord Marak. “It is not safe for anyone who does not belong here.”
“Are you all right?” asked Latril. “You could just leave through that hole in the wall.”
“Physically I am fine,” replied Lord Marak. “I am not running from this battle. Hurry and get our friends out of here.”
Lord Marak did not wait for a response. He abandoned the air tunnel and walked to his bunk. He sat down and waited to be discovered. Amazingly, it took nearly five minutes for the first Imperial soldier to arrive. The soldier stared at the hole in the wall before even noticing Lord Marak sitting on his bunk. He shouted for reinforcements.
Several Imperial soldiers ran into the cell and drew their swords. They did not threaten Lord Marak, but their presence was meant to ensure that he did not escape. A few minutes later, Marshal Chack stormed into the room. He glared at Lord Marak and then the hole in the wall.
“Bind his hands behind his back,” ordered Marshal Chack. “And get some men in here to shore up this hole before the whole wall crumbles.”
Lord Marak rose and turned his back to the soldiers. He placed his hands behind his back and waited for them to be tied. Marshal Chack waited until Lord Marak was bound before he walked to the hole in the wall and gazed out. He shook his head in confusion.
“Why didn’t you run while you had the chance?” he asked Lord Marak.
“I will not flee from false charges,” Lord Marak answered. “I have faith that your investigation will clear me and find the true assassin.”
“You are a fool,” snapped Marshal Chack. “Do you really think the Emperor will show you any mercy after your people have killed Imperial soldiers and destroyed the Imperial Palace? You will hang before nightfall.”
“My people had nothing to do with this,” Lord Marak replied calmly. “Whoever framed me for the assassination wants me to escape. I will not oblige them.”
“Preposterous,” Marshal Chack responded as his face clouded over with doubt.
“What do we do with him now?” asked one of the soldiers. “Should we put him in another cell?”
Marshal Chack did not respond for several moments. Finally, he shook his head. “No,” the marshal said softly. “We will take him to see the Emperor. He is not leaving my side until he hangs. Bring him along.”
Two men stepped forward and grabbed Lord Marak by his arms. Marshal Chack strode out of the cell. The two soldiers guided Lord Marak as they followed. They climbed the staircase until they reached the top and proceeded to the Emperor’s office.
“Wait here,” Marshal Chack ordered the two soldiers as he opened the door to the office and walked in.
After a rather long wait, the marshal opened the door and ordered his men to bring Lord Marak into the room. He then asked the men to wait outside the door. Lord Marak noticed the Emperor staring at him. He met the Emperor’s gaze without emotion.
“There are very serious charges against you, Lord Marak,” stated the Emperor. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Only that I am innocent of the charges,” declared Lord Marak. “I have no wish to see you harmed, Emperor Bagora. I hope that your investigation will prove the truth of my words.”
“Investigation?” questioned the Emperor. “What need do we have for an investigation when you were caught at the scene of the attack?”
Lord Marak’s face frowned with worry. “You must investigate,” he demanded. “If you just assume that I am the assassin, your life will remain in danger. Even if you do not care what happens to me, you certainly must care for your own life.”
“So you think this mysterious assassin will try to strike me again?” the Emperor retorted with disbelief. “You told Marshal Chack that you thought someone was framing you for the assassination. If that is to be believed, then how can you justify your thoughts that I would be attacked again? There would be no need for another attack if you are already set to pay for the crime.”
“Unless my enemy is yours as well,” Lord Marak pointed out. “Can you dismiss the possibility that an enemy would like to see you dead and have me blamed for it?”
“I cannot,” conceded the Emperor, “but neither am I ready to accept it as fact. You were the only person present during the attack. You have already made it quite clear that you dislike the way Khadora is being run, and the weapon used to kill Lord Woton is undoubtedly yours. Why should I waste my time discussing your innocence?”
“The weapon was stolen from my quarters during the evening meal last night,” Lord Marak replied.
“And you failed to report it,” interrupted Marshal Chack. “That is hardly believable.”
Emperor Bagora turned and stared at the marshal. “How do you know he failed to report it?” he asked.
“Squad leader Botal gave me the same story when I gathered their weapons,” answered the marshal. “Supposedly they thought the loss was too insignificant to bother reporting it.”
“A star is hardly a valuable item,” interjected Lord Marak. “I bought my first one right here in the marketplace in Khadoratung when I was but a soldier under Lord Ridak.”
“Has Lord Marak had any visitors since he was captured?” asked the Emperor.
“Of course not,” Marshal Chack shook his head.
“Then I find it interesting that their stories regarding the theft agree,” stated the Emperor. “Continue, Lord Marak.”
“As for being at the scene of the assassination,” Lord Marak continued, “I was here because you sent for me.”
“I sent for you?” interrupted the Emperor. “That is a patent falsehood. I did not send for you.”
“But that is what I was told,” frowned Lord Marak.
“Who told you that the Emperor wished to see you?” asked Marshal Chack.
“An Imperial soldier,” answered the Torak lord. “I was in the garden with Latril. This was during the midday meal break from the assembly. We went out there to talk, and a soldier informed that the Emperor had asked to see me. He gave me directions and then asked if I required an escort. I declined the escort, but he still walked with as far as the staircase. I ascended the stairs and he went down. A moment later is when the assassination took place. I saw you and Lord Woton exit this room. I remember feeling disappointed that you were leaving when you had asked to speak to me. I heard the song of a star flying through the air and then looked up to see Lord Woton fall. A soldier pushed you into this office. I turned to search for the assassin and was then tackled and arrested.”
“What did this supposed Imperial soldier look like?” asked Marshal Chack.
“He was tall,” answered Lord Marak. “He had red hair and a rather square face. I do not remember anything else remarkable about him.”
Marshal Chack walked to the door and eased it open. He said words to the soldiers outside, but Lord Marak could not hear them. He closed the door and walked to the window and stared out. The Emperor nodded to himself as he observed the marshal’s actions.
“Your story will be checked,” declared the Emperor. “That still does not address your motive.”
“I have no motive to see you dead,” Lord Marak stated. “Yes, there are parts of Khadoran culture that I find distasteful and wasteful, but killing you would not alter those practices one bit. The government of Khadora has been nothing if not helpful to my rise to power. You allowed me to start the Torak clan, and you have not stopped me from running my estates as I see fit. What grudge could I possibly have against you?”
“We sanction slavery,” replied the Emperor. “Can you deny that you hate the practice? If you see me as standing as a symbol for the slavery that you hate, most lords would accept that as a motive to strike me down.”
“Hate is a very strong word, Emperor,” frowned Lord Marak, “but you are correct in desc
ribing my abhorrence of slavery. Still, that does not mean that I hate those who employ it. I see them as misguided, but my weapon against them is reason. You heard my words in the assembly this morning. I offer my estates as proof of the efficiencies of a slave-free Khadora. I have offered discounts for my goods to any clan that rids itself of slaves. Not once did you hear me threaten anyone because they owned slaves. I am a warrior, Emperor, and I know how to wage a battle, but I only fight when I am forced to. I prefer negotiations to battle.”
“Yet you did fight the Situ clan to free your mother from slavery,” posed the Emperor. “Is that not correct?”
“It is not correct,” declared Lord Marak. “I purchased my mother’s freedom. I battled the Situ clan because Lord Ridak refused to accept a ruling of the Lords’ Council. Instead he sent his armies to Fardale to crush me. He miscalculated.”
The Emperor looked to the marshal for verification and the marshal nodded. “I stand corrected, Lord Marak,“ conceded the Emperor. “Will you approach my desk and verify that the star upon it is yours?”
Lord Marak looked to the marshal for permission to move, but Chack stood far away at the window and did not bother to even turn around. Lord Marak walked towards the massive desk and gazed down at the star upon it.
“It certainly looks like mine,” agreed Lord Marak, “but it has been altered.”
The Emperor frowned and reached for the star.
“Don’t touch it,” warned Lord Marak causing the Emperor to hesitate and the marshal to turn and stare at Lord Marak. “The alterations that I speak of are the brown stains on each of the tips of the star. Unless I am mistaken, that star was dipped in poison. I assume that any wound caused by it would result in certain death.”
“How could it be thrown then?” questioned the marshal. “Surely you would chance a nick of your own skin just by gripping it?”
“Absolutely,” nodded Lord Marak. “If I were to use such a weapon, I would make sure that my hands were gloved.”
The Emperor drew his hand back and nodded as he swallowed hard. Lord Marak turned and walked back to where he had been positioned by Marshal Chack. A knock sounded on the door and the marshal hurried over to it. He opened it only slightly and spoke to someone on the other side. The Emperor waited patiently for the marshal to return.
“Latril validates your story about the garden,” Marshal Chack said as he closed the door and walked back to the window. “In fact, she noticed a slight detail that you did not. She described a slight scar on the back of the man’s neck.”
“Do you know this soldier?” the Emperor asked the marshal.
“I do,” Chack answered. “I sent men to find him and bring him here. We will get to the bottom of this foul mess.”
“Untie Lord Marak’s hands,” ordered the Emperor. “I think there is sufficient evidence to support his innocence.”
The marshal moved to obey, and Lord Marak gazed around the room as he waited. The office was extremely large and rather sparsely furnished. A massive desk sat near one end of the room with two chairs in front of it. At the far end of the room was a comfortable reading chair with a small table beside it. A bell hung on a rope next to the chair, presumably to be used to call a servant. The walls of the office were a busy mosaic of gaily-painted geometric figures of various sizes. It was too loud for Lord Marak’s tastes.
“Thank you,” Lord Marak said as he rubbed his wrists.
The marshal did not reply as he returned to the window and gazed out. Lord Marak wondered what was so interesting beyond the window that the marshal spent so much time gazing out of it. Emperor Bagora walked to the corner of the room near his desk and bent down. When he rose, Lord Marak saw that he was holding the Sword of Torak in his hands.
“This is a very interesting weapon,” remarked the Emperor. “Where did you get it?”
“It was a gift,” Lord Marak replied. “It has since become the symbol of the Torak clan.”
“A very precious gift, no doubt,” the Emperor said as he approached Lord Marak with the sword. “I would not want to see you leave without it.”
The Emperor handed the sword to Lord Marak and immediately turned and walked five paces towards his desk and stopped. Lord Marak’s brow creased in confusion as he surveyed the situation. The marshal had his back turned as he gazed out the window. The Emperor had just handed an accused assassin a sword and turned his back to him. Something did not smell right.
“Marshal Chack,” Lord Marak said loudly, “I wish to leave my sword in your safekeeping. I know the rules regarding weapons in the Imperial Palace, and I agree with them. Please hold this for me until I leave the palace.”
Marshal Chack turned from the window with a grin on his face. He walked across the floor and took the offered sword from Lord Marak’s hands. The Emperor returned to his place behind the desk.
“At least you are no fool, Lord Marak,” smiled the Emperor as he waved his hand in the air.
Lord Marak thought he heard several slight clicks echo through the room, but he was not sure. His eyes roved over the wall design and finally he saw what he was looking for. Cleverly placed in the busy wall design were small shooting holes. There were dozens of them. If he had chosen to use the sword when the opportunity was presented, Lord Marak would have been struck by dozens of arrows before he could harm the Emperor.
“A fool is something that I have never desired to be,” smiled Lord Marak as he walked towards Marshal Chack.
He stopped near the marshal and nodded to the table with the rest of Marak’s weapons on it.
“May I make a demonstration with one of those stars?” he asked.
A worried frown fell over the marshal’s face as his eyes sought the Emperor. The Emperor nodded and the marshal sighed nervously.
“What do you intend, Lord Marak?” he asked.
“Just a small demonstration to remove all doubt that I could have possibly been trying to kill the Emperor and accidentally missed,” declared Lord Marak.
“That is hardly necessary,” the marshal shook his head.
“I think it is,” Lord Marak persisted. “You are of the mind to believe me at the moment, but I sense a small lingering doubt within you. Do you see that bell hanging near the reading chair?”
“Lord Marak,” scowled the marshal, “I tend to believe your story because it is believable. Do not do something so foolish that you make me question my determinations. There is no way that you can hit that bell, and when you miss you will have lost the assurance that you so greatly desired.”
Lord Marak fixed his gaze on the marshal as he picked up the star. He turned and smoothly released the star in a high arc. It appeared at first that Lord Marak’s star would strike the ceiling, but gravity pulled it downward. As the star struck the bell, it clanged loudly. The door at the far end of the room immediately opened and an Imperial soldier came through it.
“Is there something you desire, Emperor?” he asked.
“Yes,” laughed the Emperor. “Bring us some tea.”
“How could you possibly know that you would hit that bell?” asked the marshal.
“As I said early, Marshal,” smiled Lord Marak, “I am a warrior. I spend part of each day practicing my chosen profession. I think you will agree that I could not have missed the Emperor from the distance I was away from him.”
“I do agree,” nodded the marshal as he gently pushed Lord Marak towards the Emperor’s desk. “Sit, Lord Marak.”
Lord Marak sat and the marshal sat next to him. The Emperor smiled and sat down behind the desk.
“Now that we know who did not try to kill me,” the Emperor began, “how do we find out exactly who the assassin is?”
“We should look for someone who considers both you and Lord Marak enemies,” declared Marshal Chack.
“It would appear that Lord Marak has many potential enemies,” frowned the Emperor. “As for me, killing me makes no sense unless one hopes to replace me as Emperor, and that could only be a member of th
e Lords’ Council. Do you know of any enemies that you might have on the Lords’ Council, Lord Marak?”
Lord Marak frowned at the question. He hesitated a long moment before speaking and he could feel the tension rising in the marshal next to him.
“I have recently learned of an enemy who is a member of the Lords’ Council,” Lord Marak nodded, “but I am hesitant to reveal his name.”
“Hesitant to reveal his name?” the marshal echoed loudly. “I do not believe what I am hearing. You were almost executed because of this attempt on the Emperor, and now you withhold information that I might use to arrest the real culprit? I insist on knowing your enemy’s name.”
“I do not know for a fact that my enemy is the same person who tried to frame me,” Lord Marak responded calmly. “Let me explain.”
“Go ahead, Lord Marak,” the Emperor calmly urged.
“Someone has been ambushing my caravans,” Lord Marak began. “They did not seek to steal my goods, but to destroy the caravans and remove all traces of the attack. Three caravans were attacked and destroyed. The first two attacks left no trace whatsoever, but the third attack had a survivor. This man told of gray warriors attacking near the Three Sisters. He also said that he believed the gray warriors to actually be clansmen in disguise. To learn who my enemy was, I set out to ambush the ambushers.”
“Did you succeed?” asked the Emperor.
“Indeed we did,” nodded Lord Marak. “We defeated the enemy and took two prisoners. It was through these prisoners that we learned the identity of my enemy. We also learned that he sits on the Lords’ Council.”
“Can you prove any of this?” asked Marshal Chack. “I mean the words of your men would normally be sufficient, but you will be accusing a member of the Lords’ Council. I doubt they would accept the words of your men.”
“Highly doubtful,” agreed the Emperor. “A member of the Lords’ Council is supposed to be the most honest and loyal of Khadorans. Do not even pursue this on the words of your men, Lord Marak.”
Aakuta: the Dark Mage Page 17