“Stop the pacing,” chided Halman. “You will wear a hole in the floor.”
“Would that be so bad?” quipped Lord Marak. “Were it a big enough hole, I could crawl into it, and everyone would be pleased.”
“What will happen,” retorted Gunta, “will happen. Remember what you spoke of in the Emperor’s office? Perhaps you should let your mind dwell on those types of questions rather than how much the other lords like you.”
“Do you mean about Kaltara?” questioned the Torak lord.
“I do,” nodded Gunta. “You thought he would guide you. Have you changed your mind?”
Lord Marak frowned with a puzzled look on his face as he stared at Gunta. Slowly, he nodded and walked into the small office. He closed the door and sat at the desk. Marak tried to clear his mind of all the troubling questions that were plaguing him. He tried to remember the tales that Lyra had told him of her god, Kaltara, and how he guided her. He recalled the trip to Angragar with Rejji and the Qubari tales of how only the Astor could open the gates that had been sealed by Kaltara. Lastly, he thought about the Chula and his father, Ukaro. The shaman had reinforced the others’ beliefs about Kaltara and stressed that the Torak could always call upon the god to intervene in a crisis.
For the first time in his life, Marak prayed. He asked Kaltara for guidance in uniting the Khadoran people and ridding them of slavery. He asked for knowledge to understand the evil that would try to annihilate his people. Lastly, he asked for strength to endure the barbs of the other lords, at least long enough to bring them together. Lord Marak received no answers from Kaltara, but his mind felt strangely calm when he had finished.
Full of a newfound determination to confront the other lords head-on with his proposed reforms, Lord Marak stood erect and inhaled deeply as he would just before a great battle. He opened the door to the office and strode out.
“I am off to the Assembly of Lords,” he declared. “Continue to seek information on the assassin and the dark mage, Aakuta. I shall return near the midday.”
Lord Marak left the quarters and strode along the corridor to the Assembly Chamber. He was the first to arrive, and the sight of the Imperial soldier following him did not dampen his spirit. As the lords started arriving for the meeting, Lord Marak resisted the urge to use an air tunnel to spy on them. He was quite sure that he would only hear vilification of his own character, so he was quite relieved when Lord Shamino arrived and sat in the seat next to him.
“You missed the morning meal,” greeted Lord Shamino.
“I did not have the stomach for much more of the shunning,” shrugged Lord Marak. “You might say that I feel that my first trip to the Assembly of Lords has gone on long enough.”
“Then you must get your attitude under control,” urged the Sorgan lord. “Last night you were the topic of gossip. Today is different. This morning everyone was talking about the upcoming vote to replace Lord Woton on the Lords’ Council.”
“Well,” Lord Marak said, “at least they are onto a more peasant conversation.”
“It might not be so pleasant,” declared Lord Shamino. “The Neju clan is now led by Lord Jamarat. He is not liked by those who know him.”
“Little will that matter,” shrugged Lord Marak. “He is the leader of the Neju clan. He will replace Lord Woton on the Lords’ Council. It has always been so. They say the members of the Lords’ Council are elected by the Assembly of Lords, but what they fail to say is that only one lord is ever nominated. That is not much of an election.”
“Not this time,” Lord Shamino grinned as he delighted in being the bearer of strange news. “The word is that someone will nominate Lord Faliman of the Aritor clan. There are many in the Assembly that viewed Lord Woton merely as one of Lord Mirakotto’s lackeys, and his brother Jamarat is even less liked. This should prove to be a momentous day in Khadoran history.”
“Really?” Lord Marak said as he perked up a bit. “It will be interesting to see who dares to break with convention. Whoever it is might be worth talking to. It is this attitude of having always done something a certain way that closes the minds of these lords to reason. If I can find a few lords who dare to think on their own, perhaps we can start to change things in Khadora.”
“Perhaps,” nodded Lord Shamino as the room began to fill.
Within moments the lords took their seats, and the horns sounded the arrival of the Emperor. Bagora walked to the center of the stage and gazed out at the assembled lords. He waited for the last murmurs of conversation to cease.
“Lords of Khadora,” began the Emperor, “it is with great sadness that I report what you already know. Yesterday, Lord Woton of the Neju clan was struck down by an assassin.”
Shouts of outrage rippled through the room and more than one lord turned to glare at Lord Marak. The Emperor waited patiently.
“Lord Woton will be missed,” continued Emperor Bagora, “as any member of the Lords’ Council would be. Marshal Chack assures me that the assassin who perpetrated this foul deed will be caught. We cannot, however, stop the business of government while the hunt continues. I have therefore instructed the Lords’ Council to use this morning’s meeting of the Assembly of Lords to fulfill their duty of electing a new member to the Lords’ Council. Without further rambling, I will turn this meeting over to Lord Garic, member of the Lords’ Council, and leader of the Ronan clan. Lord Garic.”
The Emperor turned and walked to his throne at the rear of the stage. Lord Garic nodded and stepped to the center of the stage.
“I open this meeting of the Assembly of Lords for the purpose of electing a new member to the Lords’ Council,” Lord Garic stated formally. “Are there any nominations?”
Lord Mirakotto immediately rose from his front-row seat. “I, Lord Mirakotto of the Argetta clan, wish to make a nomination,” he stated.
Lord Garic nodded and Lord Mirakotto climbed onto the stage. He faced the assembled lords and spoke loudly and clearly.
“Lord Woton was a dear friend and colleague of mine,” he began. “He will be sorely missed. The Neju clan has had a seat on the Lords’ Council for over two hundred years. They have contributed a great many distinguished lords during that period of time, and I know that fine devotion to Khadora will continue under the new leadership of the Neju clan. Lord Woton’s brother, Lord Jamarat, is now the recognized leader of the Neju. His placement on the Lords’ Council will ensure that the Council continues its course without the interruptions that might be introduced by a new clan. I nominate Lord Jamarat of the Neju clan for a seat on the Lords’ Council.”
A tremendous roar of approval rippled through the chamber.
“I suspect Lord Mirakotto caught wind of the competition,” chuckled Lord Shamino. “That is no doubt why he stressed the continuance of the Council’s work.”
“You suspect wisely,” agreed Lord Marak. “I wonder which lord will stick his neck out to nominate Lord Faliman.”
Lord Mirakotto returned to his seat, and another member of the Lords’ Council rose.
“I, Lord Kiamesh of the Scratti clan, also wish to make a nomination,” declared Lord Kiamesh.
“Another member of the Lords’ Council,” noted Lord Marak as Lord Kiamesh climbed onto the stage. “He is the leader of the Scratti clan. Do you think this means that there is squabbling among the members of the Lords’ Council?”
“It must mean exactly that,” nodded Lord Shamino. “I did not think they would ever allow their differences to be shown in public. The rift must be deep indeed.”
“I also want to extend my condolences to the Neju clan for their loss,” Lord Kiamesh began. “Lord Woton worked very hard on the Lords’ Council, and no one can dispute the long years of service that the Neju clan has given their country. Still, I think it is time for a change.”
Quite a few shouts of agreement ripped across the room as Lord Kiamesh’s supporters let their strength be known.
Lord Kiamesh grinned broadly at the interruption as he continued, “For
many hundreds of years, the same clans have been called upon to serve on the Lords’ Council. Always the clans of the Imperial Valley serve, as it should be, but periodically individual clans come and go within that mix. The Neju clan, as Lord Mirakotto pointed out, has served on the Council for the last two hundred years. There are other noble clans in the Imperial Valley that have served loyally in the past, but have recently been refused a chance. I think two hundred years is long enough.”
Again the shouts rippled through the room, and Lord Mirakotto turned and glared at some of the more vocal lords.
“The Aritor clan dates back to the founding,” Lord Kiamesh continued. “Members of the Aritor clan have served for many generations on the Lords’ Council, but they have not been given the opportunity in several generations. I think this is rather unfair. I nominate Lord Faliman, head of the Aritor clan, for the empty seat on the Lords’ Council.”
Lord Marak observed the roomful of lords as Lord Kiamesh took his seat.
“Lord Kiamesh has more than a handful of supporters,” noted Lord Marak. “I think this Lord Faliman is quite popular.”
“Hardly,” laughed Lord Shamino. “Most of the people cheering hardly know him. The fact is, almost everyone hates Lord Jamarat. The man is a brutal animal. He beats slaves and animals alike as if it is his daily chore. He has never had a kind word for anyone, and worst of all, not one lord trusts him.”
“Except Lord Mirakotto?” interrupted Lord Marak.
“Not even Lord Mirakotto,” Lord Shamino shook his head. “The word is that Lord Mirakotto can control him. That is not the same as trusting him.”
Lord Garic returned to the center of the stage and cleared his throat loudly to get the attention of the chamber.
“If there are no more nominations,” said Lord Garic, “I would like to start the voting process.”
A sudden tapping on the floor of the stage caused Lord Garic to turn around. He stared questioningly at the Emperor. Emperor Bagora rose and walked to the center of the stage.
“It is unusual for the Emperor to interrupt a session of the Assembly of Lords,” the Emperor began, “but these are unusual times. For the first time in recent memory, we are about to have a vote on nominations to the Lords’ Council. As you are all aware, this is a rare day in the history of Khadora. While the Assembly of Lords has been endowed with the privilege of voting for the members of the Lords’ Council, it has been a long time since that privilege was actually enjoyed. How does it feel to be actually making a difference in the history of your country?”
The assembled lords roared loudly in a manner befitting young children. The Emperor grinned as he watched the childish behavior.
“Good,” smiled the Emperor. “It is about time that you flexed your muscles.”
Lord Mirakotto rose from his seat, his face red with anger. “For what purpose does the Emperor interrupt the proceedings of this body?” he demanded.
“You rise, Lord Mirakotto,” scowled the Emperor, “to challenge my right to speak, but I do not recall you being recognized to do so.”
Lord Marak watched intently as Lord Mirakotto faced the Emperor. The Argetta lord turned and glared at Lord Garic who was responsible for conducting the session.
“Lord Mirakotto has a valid objection,” declared Lord Garic. “While the Emperor is afforded the opening statement of the Assembly of Lords, we are well past that point. We are in the middle of voting here. By what right does the Emperor speak?”
“I am the Emperor of Khadora,” declared Bagora. “Under the law, I have the right to speak in the Assembly of Lords not only for the purpose of opening comments, but also to nominate, or second the nomination of, a lord to the Lords’ Council. I have already spoken to my legal scholar about this. If you wish to clarify my position, I will gladly wait while you do.”
Lord Kiamesh’s face erupted into a broad grin, but Lord Mirakotto kicked the desk in front of him. Lord Garic looked questioningly at Lord Mirakotto, but eventually he just shrugged.
“I recognize Emperor Bagora for the purpose of making a nomination or seconding one,” stated Lord Garic.
“Thank you,” smiled the Emperor. “Lord Kiamesh made an elegant speech a few moments ago. He pointed out the stagnancy of our Lords’ Council. I not only agree that those lords who represent us on the Lords’ Council should be rotated, but I think we should take things a step further.”
Lord Kiamesh frowned, and Lord Mirakotto sat up in his chair and stared at the Emperor.
“Since our founding,” continued the Emperor, “The Lords’ Council has been composed of the same dozen clans. They are all from the Imperial Valley, and for the most part, they all think alike. While this may be good for stability, it is not a sound scenario if we ever hope to progress into something better than we are today. Many of you have heard some strange and outrageous proposals floating around the palace the last few days. I think listening to strange proposals is something that we do not do often enough. How are we to grow as a nation if we continue to do things as we have done them for the last thousand years?”
Murmurs of agreement came from every direction of the chamber as the Emperor struck a familiar complaint of the lords. Each of them harbored some resentment to the chosen dozen clans who made all of the rules.
“What I am about to do,” continued the Emperor, “has not been done in four hundred years, and even then it was only done half-heartedly. It is time not only for a new clan to step up to the Lords’ Council, but it is time for a different region of the country to have a say in our future. Khadora is much more than just the Imperial Valley. It is with a keen eye to the future of our country, that I nominate Lord Marak of the Torak clan to the Lords’ Council.”
Chapter 16
Lords’ Council
After nominating Lord Marak to the Lords’ Council, Emperor Bagora returned to his throne as Lord Garic returned to the center of the stage.
“Unless there are more nominations,” he said with a long pause as he gazed around the chamber, “We will begin with the voting.”
“Keep a list of everyone who votes for Lord Faliman,” Lord Marak urged Lord Shamino. “I will track those who vote for Lord Jamarat. This is a great opportunity to record alliances no matter how fragile they may be.”
“What about the votes for you?” asked Lord Shamino.
“I think I can handle those in addition to keeping track of Lord Jamarat’s,” chuckled Lord Marak. “While I am touched by the Emperor’s nomination, I seriously doubt that these lords will elect me to anything.”
“Do not underestimate the power of the Emperor,” countered the Sorgan lord. “The votes are given verbally, and there are few lords who want to be seen as not following the Emperor’s lead.”
Lord Marak shrugged as the voting began. Lord Garic solicited votes beginning in the front row. This allowed the current members of the Lords’ Council to make their votes known to the other lords. It was a minor form of intimidation and the results were quite expectable. All of the members of the Lords’ Council voted for either Lord Jamarat or Lord Faliman.
Some of the lords stood and merely stated their vote, but others made speeches as well. A full dozen votes had been given before a lord voted for Lord Marak. The Torak lord’s eyebrows rose in surprise. An hour into the voting, Lord Shamino chuckled.
“Do you now doubt the power of the Emperor?” he asked.
“This is most unexpected,” admitted Lord Marak. “I have never spoken to most of these lords. In fact, I recognize many voting for me as being among those who glared at me last night in a most hostile fashion.”
“To go against the wishes of the Emperor is to spit into the wind,” quipped Lord Shamino. “That is why it is so rare for the Emperor to take a position in a matter such as this. Trust me when I say that they are not voting for you because they like you. They are voting to register their support for the Emperor. You will be a member of the Lords’ Council before this session adjourns.”
�
�Then I should begin to think about what I should do once I am there,” frowned Lord Marak.
“You will not be allowed to do much at all,” sighed Lord Shamino. “This vote will probably cause the Lords’ Council to forget their prior disagreements and join forces against you. You are in for a rough ride, Lord Marak. You had best be prepared for it.”
The speeches dragged on as lord after lord spoke of the need for fresh blood on the Lords’ Council and why they had personally decided to vote for Lord Marak. Long before the voting had reached the back row of the room, it was obvious that Lord Marak had won. The speeches grew shorter as the midday break approached. Finally, Lord Marak stood and voted for himself. Lord Garic immediately announced the results and congratulated Lord Marak from the stage. He then adjourned the meeting for the midday meal. As the lords rose from their seats, an Imperial soldier approached Lord Marak.
“Emperor Bagora would like to see you in his office,” the soldier said quietly to Lord Marak.
“You will escort me,” Lord Marak replied.
The soldier nodded, but the first of the congratulatory lords had already arrived. For the next fifteen minutes, lords approached Lord Marak before leaving the room. Each of them expressed their congratulations and made a point of stating that they had voted for him. Lord Marak endured the posturing of the lords with a profound distaste, but he kept a smile upon his lips and greeted each lord courteously. When the area around his desk was finally clear of lords, Marak swiftly stepped out of the chamber. The soldier immediately joined him and escorted him to the Emperor’s office.
“Ah, Lord Marak,” smiled the Emperor as the Torak lord entered. “Congratulations on being elected to the Lords’ Council.”
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