“Yes, Lord Marak,” answered the mage.
“I want someone to make a noise on the road,” instructed Lord Marak. “Don’t do it right now. Listen first.”
“Go ahead,” prompted Latril.
“The Nordon corte here is static,” explained Lord Marak. “We cannot approach the mansion without a battle. I want someone out there to make a noise just loud enough that it will need to be investigated. Do you understand?”
“We understand,” Latril responded after a short pause. “When do you want it?”
“Kaylee,” Lord Marak said, “we are going to draw those troops away from the mansion. I suspect the patrol in the rear will come around to the front. I want them taken out and the bodies hidden as quickly as possible. Capture and immobilize them if possible, but they must be neutralized. Then move towards the front of the estate and capture the other two squads. Coordinate this with Latril.”
“We understand what you want,” Kaylee responded. “They say it will take a few minutes to get organized. Is that all right?”
“That is fine,” agreed Lord Marak. “Just make it as silent as possible.”
Lord Marak turned and crawled away. Mistake dropped the two air tunnels and followed.
“This squad should be leaving in a short while,” Lord Marak reported. “We move as soon as they disappear.”
Botal’s squad waited in silence. About five minutes later, a shrill whistle rent the air. The squad stopped in their tracks. The squad leader pointed towards the nearest corner of the mansion and the squad marched towards it. They did not appear to be in any hurry, but they did not dally either. As soon as they rounded the corner, Botal’s men sprinted for the rear of the mansion. As Lord Marak, Mistake, and Katzu reached the rear door, Botal had already tried to open it.
“No go,” reported Botal. “They actually lock the doors here.”
“Must be a rough neighborhood,” Lord Marak quipped as his eyes rose to look at the second level. He saw a window above and turned to Mistake. “Can you climb?” he asked.
“I can climb,” Mistake shook her head, “but why should I? Just because a door is locked does not mean that we can’t enter through it.”
The Fakaran thief pulled a thin strip of metal from inside her belt. Botal stepped away from the door as Mistake inserted the strip into the lock. She grinned with satisfaction as a loud click was heard. Katzu’s eyebrows rose as Mistake opened the door.
Lord Marak’s chuckle was barely audible as he signaled for Botal to enter the mansion. The squad slid into the mansion and closed the door. They stood silently in the unlit room as their eyes adjusted to the dark confines. Botal moved forward and cracked the door leading into the corridor. He moved cautiously along the corridor to the foot of the stairs. As the rest of the squad approached, Botal used hand signals to disperse them. He sent two men to guard the front door and two to guard the rear door. Four more were assigned to search the rooms on the ground floor. Two men were assigned to guard the staircase while the rest of the squad proceeded up the stairs.
As they reached the top of the stairs, shouting came from outside the mansion. Clashes of steel clanged in the still night and shouts were heard inside the mansion. Lord Marak’s eyes scanned the second floor corridor and guessed that the lord’s suite was at the end of the corridor. He sprinted towards the door with Gunta and Halman at his heels.
Botal stood at the top of the stairs as he directed the rest of his men. He split them up to cover as many rooms as possible at the same time. Mistake and Katzu hurried after Lord Marak. They had almost caught up when a door opened and a man ran into the corridor. Mistake was prepared and she did not hesitate. The blowpipe came up to her mouth and she blew the dart into the man. He collapsed against the wall as Mistake ran past him.
Lord Marak barged through the lord’s suite and into his bedroom. Lord Patel was already out of bed and grabbing for his sword. Lord Marak leaped across the space between them and pushed the Nordon lord away from the table. Gunta dove through the air and wrapped his arms around Lord Patel’s legs, while Halman pulled his sword and scanned the room for people. The lord’s wife was in bed. She sat up and stared at the black-suited invaders. Her eyes grew large, as she understood what was happening, but she didn’t utter a sound.
Lord Patel tried to free his legs from Gunta’s hold, but the Torak soldier refused to let go. Lord Marak took Lord Patel’s sword from the table and threw it into the corner. He turned to look at the door to the corridor and saw Mistake and Katzu just beyond the door. He walked casually to the door and closed it partially to hide them from Lord Patel’s view.
“Let him up, Gunta,” Lord Marak said.
Gunta released the lord’s legs and swiftly rolled away before he could be kicked. Lord Patel rose and brushed his nightclothes as if they were dirty.
“How dare you break into my home?” Lord Patel spat. “You are nothing more than a common criminal. I shall see you hanged for this.”
“We see things slightly differently, Lord Patel,” replied the Torak lord. “Your men were the ones wearing the gray uniforms.”
“What are you talking about?” scowled Lord Patel. “Are you mad?”
There was a noisy commotion in the hallway. Gunta immediately moved to check it out. He returned a moment later with Lord Marshal Orik. He shoved Orik into the room.
“He did not lead his men into battle,” Gunta said as Orik caught his footing and turned to glare at Lord Marak.
“Halman, take the lady away from here,” ordered Lord Marak. “See that she is cared for, but she is to speak to no one.”
Lord Patel’s face turned red, and he started towards Lord Marak. The Torak lord smoothly pulled his sword free from leather and held it to the Nordon lord’s chest.
“You, sir, are remaining here to chat with me,” declared Lord Marak. “Your wife will not be harmed.”
“What are you doing here?” asked Lord Marshal Orik. “You are supposed to be…”
“In Deep Bend?” Lord Marak finished the question. “Perhaps that is where I am supposed to be, but clearly I am not.”
“Then the messages were false?” questioned Orik.
“No,” Lord Marak shook his head. “The messages were correct. My troops have seized the Nordon estate at Deep Bend.”
“That is an act of war!” the Lord Marshal said accusingly. “Are you insane?”
“Hardly,” replied Lord Marak. “Nor am I a fool, in case that was your next question. The Nordon clan repetitively attacked my caravans in an attempt to destroy me. The troops used, which were wearing gray by the way, were yours Lord Marshal, but they were housed at Deep Bend. Do you deny this?”
“I do not have to answer your questions,” spat Orik.
“Quite true,” nodded Lord Marak as he turned his attention to the Nordon lord, “but you do, Lord Patel. Do you deny my accusations?”
“You are stark raving mad, Marak,” scowled Lord Patel. “You have attacked a member of the Lords’ Council. Not only have you attacked my estate at Deep Bend, but you have also entered my very home and accosted me. You have done all of this without provocation. You shall hang in the morning.”
“Without provocation?” taunted Lord Marak. “How dare you say such a thing?”
“Lord Marak,” Lord Marshal Orik said softly, “I am not sure how you and your squad managed to get into this mansion, but you should be preparing to die, not harassing my lord. Take what time you have left and flee for your life. Maybe you can escape to Fakara.”
The door opened and Squad Leader Botal entered. “The estate is secure, Lord Marak,” he stated. “There were unfortunately six deaths.”
“Bury them,” ordered Lord Marak.
“I shall find out if they have families first and let the wives attend to them before burial,” Botal nodded before he exited the room.
“Secured the estate?” howled Orik. “What nonsense is this? Do you play me for some type of fool? And he makes like you only lost six men? Preposterous!”
“You need to listen more closely, Orik,” chided Lord Marak. “My men do not travel with their wives. The six deaths were Nordon casualties.”
“Do you really expect us to believe that your squad defeated our defenses?” Lord Patel said.
“Certainly not,” answered Lord Marak. “I never said that I came with only a squad. That is merely what your spies tell you I am traveling with. I came with two cortes. And if you are expecting your reinforcements to arrive tonight, I have more bad news for you. They have been delayed. They will arrive in the morning.”
“So you will live just a little while longer,” shrugged Lord Patel.
“Then I shall spend my time amusing myself,” smiled Lord Marak. “I will have answers out of you, Lord Patel, or I will kill you. It will not take me until morning to decide whether you live or die. Answer my questions truthfully or you will die. Why did you have your troops attack my caravans?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” lied Lord Patel. “I think you have lost your mind.”
“Tsk, tsk,” taunted Lord Marak. “A member of the Lords’ Council telling a bold faced lie. How unbecoming. You should be aware that your last attack failed. The ambushers are dead with the exception of two prisoners.”
“Prisoners?” echoed Lord Marshal Orik. “You are lying.”
“Am I?” retorted Lord Marak. “How then did I know that you were using Deep Bend to attack me from? How did I know that the troops were yours, Lord Marshal? How did I discover that Lord Patel was present when they received their orders?”
Lord Marshal Orik’s face clouded with concern, but Lord Patel laughed.
“This is the story that you are going to tell the Lords’ Council?” countered Lord Patel. “Some gray warriors attacked your caravans and said that they were my people? That is your excuse for attacking Deep Bend? You have much to learn about politics, Lord Marak. When it comes to your word against mine, yours doesn’t count.”
“So you admit trying to ruin me?” asked Lord Marak. “You see my only problem as proving your treachery? Is that it?”
“Isn’t that enough, Lord Marak?” countered Lord Patel “You have no one but yourself to blame. You are the one who is stirring things up with your calls to abandon our slaves. Did you really expect that we would stand by and let you ruin this country?”
“Lord Patel…” interrupted Lord Marshal Orik.
“You just don’t understand the nature of power, Lord Marak,” Lord Patel continued. “The people who rule Khadora will never stand for your kind. If I hadn’t attacked you, someone else would have. It really doesn’t matter which one of us gets to you first.”
“Lord Patel…” interrupted Lord Marshal Orik.
“Your kind come and go, Lord Marak,” Lord Patel said. “And you are always indignant about it. You just don’t understand. We live because we have slaves. Without them, we would perish.”
“Did you authorize the attacks on my caravans?” Lord Marak loudly asked.
“Yes,” shouted Lord Patel. “Yes, I ordered your precious caravans attacked. I ordered your men to be killed and the wagons burned. Now you know the truth, Marak. What are you going to do about it?”
“I am here to demand restitution,” declared Lord Marak.
“For the Torak clan?’ laughed Lord Patel. “There is no Torak clan, you fool. My armies are headed for Deep Bend as we speak. When they have finished there, they will attack River’s Bend, and then Fardale and Woodville. And for fun on their way home, I have authorized them to destroy Raven’s Point. It is over, Lord Marak. You and your men here are all that is left of the Torak clan. If you run now, maybe you will survive, but I doubt it.”
“I have a different solution in mind,” Lord Marak said threateningly. “You will swear Vows of Service to me, and recall your armies.”
“You are mad,” scowled Lord Patel. “Why would I ever do such a thing?”
“To live,” Lord Marak replied. “If you refuse, I will have little option but to kill you and everyone on this estate. Then I will burn it to the ground to mark the end of the Nordon clan.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” shouted Lord Patel. “You would be hunted down and killed by every clan in Khadora.”
“I don’t think so,” smiled Lord Marak. “If it is just my word against yours, and you are dead, I suspect the Lords’ Council might believe my version of events.”
“They would not believe you even then,” snapped Lord Patel. “There is no love for you on the Lords’ Council. I am not the only member seeking to kill you. They will never believe your word.”
“Then I shall have to present my other witness,” grinned Lord Marak. “A witness that they will believe. He will detail your treachery for everyone to see. The name Nordon will be infamous. Perhaps I should even let you live to witness it. The humiliation will make you wish you were dead.”
“What other witness?” asked Lord Patel.
Lord Marak snapped his fingers, and Gunta went to the door. He opened it and signaled. The Lords’ Council mediator stepped into the room.
“Katzu?” questioned Lord Patel. “What are you doing here?”
“I was requested to mediate a dispute between the Nordon and the Torak clans,” answered Katzu.
“Are you also a witness?” Lord Marshal Orik asked in an unsteady voice.
“I am, Lord Marshal,” frowned Katzu. “I had the misfortune of stumbling upon a certain caravan ambush.”
“And you heard what has been said in this room?” Orik inquired.
“I have been outside waiting to be called in,” nodded Katzu. “I am afraid that I heard more than I ever cared to hear.”
Tears welled up in Lord Patel’s eyes as he avoided Katzu’s gaze. He stared at the floor in front of his feet and shook his head.
“Mediator,” he said, his voice cracking, “will you please wait outside while I discuss terms with Lord Marak.”
“As you wish,” nodded Katzu as he turned and left the room.
“You could have spared me that, Lord Marak,” Lord Patel said softly. “You had the right to kill me or my men for what I did to you, but to damn the Nordon name for all time is beyond revenge. I offer you my life as restitution. Kill me and take Deep Bend for your own, but I beg of you to keep the Lords’ Council out of this affair.”
“Deep Bend is already mine,” Lord Marak stated.
“It won’t be tomorrow,” interrupted Lord Marshal Orik. “Practically my whole army is bearing down on it.”
Lord Marak ignored the marshal. “Lord Patel,” he said, “my demands are not onerous on you. I ask you and all of your people to offer Vows of Service to me. I will demand that you free your slaves, and that you treat your people with respect.”
“Vows of Service?” echoed Lord Patel. “I cannot do that. The one thing that must survive this foolish thing I have done is the Nordon clan. I cannot offer you Vows of Service. I will not let this clan be taken over by the Toraks.”
“Let me try this again,” smiled Lord Marak. “I do not intend to dissolve the Nordon clan. I do not intend to replace you as lord of the Nordon clan. I do not plan to take away your seat on the Lords’ Council. The vows will be made to me and will be irreversible, but they will also be secret. No one outside our clans need know what has happened here tonight.”
“What?” asked Lord Patel. “How can you do such a thing?”
“Is it legal?” asked Lord Marshal Orik.
“It is quite legal,” nodded Lord Marak. “Would you be surprised to know that I already have this arrangement with four other clans?”
“Which four?” asked Lord Patel.
“The Situ, Sorgan, Ragatha, and Litari,” answered Lord Marak. “Each and every member of those four clans have sworn Vows of Service to me.”
“Yet they all act independent,” frowned Lord Patel. “How can this be?”
“They are fairly independent,” shrugged Lord Marak. “Each of those clans has attacked me and lost. I made the same off
er to each, and each has been pleased with the results. They are more prosperous than ever. Only Lord Quavry was dissatisfied.”
“How did you find out about him?” asked Lord Patel.
“The Sorgan informed me,” replied Lord Marak.
“So they truly value their vows to you then,” remarked Orik.
“You make it seem so workable, Lord Marak,” sighed Lord Patel. “You make it sound like the Nordon will do well, but we are patriots. Your reforms make me sick to my stomach. I do not think I could live with them.”
“I assure you that you can, Lord Patel,” countered Lord Marak. “The other lords felt the same as you, but they were pleasantly surprised by the results.”
“I suppose you will demand my vote on the Lords’ Council to end slavery,” scowled Lord Patel.
“Not until you believe I am right,” promised Lord Marak. “Besides, we have more urgent matters to attend to than slavery right now.”
“Like what?” questioned Lord Patel.
“There are clans in Khadora who are planning to spread chaos,” explained Lord Marak. “I know who these clans are, but there is nothing that we can do to stop them right now. The addition of your Nordon armies will help.”
“With the five clans you already hold,” frowned Lord Marshal Orik, “why would you need the might of the Nordon?”
“Because even the Nordon are small in comparison to our enemy,” answered Lord Marak.
“Small?” blustered Lord Patel. “I have twelve cortes on their way to Deep Bend right now, and another two dozen that will be leaving tomorrow to finish off the Torak clan. Who are these powerful lords?”
Lord Marak winced at the mention of the two dozen additional cortes. He had made a grave miscalculation. He had assumed that the other Nordon estates would remain defensive.
“The Vessi, Glamaraldi, and Lejune clans are hosting Jiadin warriors,” declared Lord Marak. “Their purpose is not yet clear, but I believe they plan to take over as much of Khadora as possible.”
“Bah,” scowled Lord Patel. “Those three clans put together would not even keep my armies busy. You are making something out of nothing.”
“How many Jiadin?” asked Lord Marshal Orik.
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