Aakuta: the Dark Mage fl-4

by Richard S. Tuttle

  Lord Marak frowned as he stared at Lord Chenowith. He had never met Bagora’s son before, but he was getting the feeling that Chenowith didn’t care for him much. Still, there was little point in hiding the clans that were out there. With the coming casualties, everyone would know soon anyways.

  “There are six clans represented out there besides the Balomar,” answered Lord Marak. “The Torak, Sorgan, Litari, Situ, Ragatha, and Nordon clans have soldiers ready to fight.”

  “The Nordon?” questioned Lord Quilo as he looked expectantly at Lord Patel.

  “Why are you men out there, Lord Patel?” asked Lord Chenowith.

  “They are needed,” answered Lord Patel. “I have contributed two cortes from each of my estates, as did each of the other clans.”

  “Why did you commit troops out there in the first place?” asked Lord Chenowith

  “Because Lord Marak asked me to,” Lord Patel sighed in frustration. “Just where are you going with all of these questions. I do not probe into your clan dealings.”

  “Just one more question,” Lord Chenowith said as he stared into Lord Patel’s eyes. “If Lord Marak never existed, would your troops be out there today?”

  “Yes,” Lord Patel shook his head. “I mean no. Let me explain. If Lord Marak had not requested my troops, I would never have been wise enough to know that they were needed, but knowing the situation as I do now, then yes, I would have sent my troops. The Jiadin must be stopped at all costs. I know that is hard to see as we sit in the safety of the Imperial Valley, but this safety is an illusion. The Jiadin will grow and grow as they eat up more clans. It is much better to stop them now while they are only twenty thousand strong.”

  “Only twenty thousand?” echoed Lord Quilo. “That is over three hundred cortes. There is no army in Khadora that is anywhere near that size.”

  “I really must insist an end to this questioning, Lord Chenowith,” stated Lord Marak. “Satisfying your curiosity is not worth the risk that my people might have to endure.”

  “Oh this is about more than just my curiosity, Lord Marak,” countered Lord Chenowith. “There is a matter of legalities here. I understand that you assured the Lords’ Council that you had a legal right to be on the Balomar estate. What is Lord Patel’s legal right to be there? Or Lord Sevrin’s? Or any of the others?”

  “What does it matter now?” retorted Lord Marak. “The Emperor has refused my request to the Lords’ Council. The men at the Balomar estate will die in the coming week. Does it really matter to you if they were there legally?”

  “It does,” insisted Lord Chenowith. “It matters a great deal. Tell us how you can legally claim to be at the Balomar estate and have all of these other clans there with you.”

  “I will not,” Lord Marak shook his head. “Ask me after next week and perhaps I will tell you.”

  “So you plan to return to the Balomar estate yourself?” asked Lord Chenowith.

  “I do,” nodded Lord Marak. “I would never ask my people to do something that I fear to do myself. I will be there with them.”

  “All the more reason to tell us now then,” insisted Lord Chenowith. “Seeing as you won’t be around later to tell us.”

  “I will say nothing more, Lord Chenowith,” declared Lord Marak. “I have indulged your curiosity to a fault. I do not wish to be rude, but it is not in my interests to speak more of this.”

  “I have done something that I am very ashamed of, Lord Marak,” the Walkan lord said. “My father, Emperor Bagora, was a student of history. As such, he saved every scrap of paper that passed through his hands. He also kept a daily journal of both his meetings and his private thoughts. He would periodically send those papers home in a locked box. In the despair that followed my father’s death, I dared to open the last box he sent home. I know he would chastise me for it if he were alive today, but he is not.”

  “Please don’t take this further, Lord Chenowith,” pleaded Lord Marak. “My meetings with your father were quite private.”

  Lord Quilo and Lord Kiamesh sat on the edges of their chairs, their eyes glued to Lord Chenowith with anticipation.

  “I must, Lord Marak,” Lord Chenowith continued. “I spent the entire night reading his journal. You are mentioned many times in it. In fact, as the night wore on, I became quite bitter that my father thought more of you than he did of me.”

  “That is not fair,” protested Lord Marak. “I am sure that your father loved you dearly. Do not think poorly of him based upon some sporadic writings.”

  “I do not think poorly of him, Lord Marak,” countered Lord Chenowith. “My father was the greatest man I have ever known. The point is, I know the reason that your presence out there is considered legal. I think the rest of the lords here have a right to know as well. They have the right to know whom they are dealing with. The question is, are you going to tell them, or am I?”

  “I can only ask you not to,” sighed Lord Marak as he shook his head. “If you read your father’s words, then you understand why I have done what I have done. It is not for my own glory that I have acted, but rather the security of our country.”

  “Tell us already,” interrupted Lord Quilo. “What secret dealings are going on?”

  “Very well,” shrugged Lord Chenowith. “Lord Oktar swore Vows of Service to Lord Marak so that the Torak lord would be able to station troops on his estate.”

  “Vows of Service to another lord?” questioned Lord Kiamesh. “How can that work?”

  “It works quite well actually,” declared Lord Chenowith. “Lord Marak learned this trick early in his career as a lord. You see, all of the other clans out there also gave Vows of Service to Lord Marak.”

  “Even the Nordon?” gasped Lord Kiamesh. “Is this true, Lord Patel?”

  “It is true,” nodded Lord Patel.

  “Why?” asked Lord Kiamesh.

  “Each of the clans attacked Lord Marak,” explained Lord Chenowith, “and each of them lost. Now Lord Marak thinks this is something to be hidden. He thinks that some lords will find fault with his method of solving disputes. Instead of conquering his foes and crushing their armies, Lord Marak negotiates them into surrender and then assumes a patriarchal role over them. That is the reason for the serenity and prosperity of the southern frontier.”

  “That is remarkable,” Lord Quilo said in surprise. “That is why the Situ no longer threaten the Morgar, and the Litari no longer speak ill of the Ragatha. Amazing, simply amazing.”

  “What an ingenious way to solve difficulties,” nodded Lord Kiamesh. “Tell me, Lord Patel, how does it work?”

  “Quite well actually,” Lord Patel said. “I was quite opposed to the idea at first, as you can imagine, but until now, I have found it enlightening.”

  “Why until now?” asked Lord Chenowith.

  “Your exposing our arrangements will have consequences, Lord Chenowith,” sighed Lord Marak. “There are some powerful lords who will use this information to my detriment.”

  “Perhaps,” nodded Lord Chenowith, “but none of them are in this room.”

  “Are you saying that you are willing to keep these arrangements secret?” asked Lord Patel.

  “I am,” nodded Lord Chenowith. “I am sorry to put you through this, Lord Marak, but you are asking these lords to put armies under your control. Is it not reasonable that they should know the truth about you?”

  “The arrangements have been secret to protect those who have sworn to me more than anything else,” replied Lord Marak. “The hardest part of swearing to another lord is the embarrassment of having lost control of your clan, although those who have sworn to me know that this is not the case. I exercise very little control over the clans. Pride is one of the greatest problems this country faces. It makes it almost impossible for us to unite.”

  “Besides,” Lord Patel interjected, “you are not being asked to send troops. The Emperor will not allow it.”

  “The night my father died,” Lord Chenowith said, “we talked extensively ab
out this problem on the frontier. We discussed many things, but I finally asked him what he would do to solve the problem. His answer confused me greatly. I had no understanding of his words until I later read his journal.”

  “What did he say he would do?” asked Lord Quilo.

  “He said he would swear Vows of Service to Lord Marak and march his armies onto the Balomar estate,” declared Lord Chenowith. “That is what I am prepared to do, Lord Marak. I will have thirty cortes ready to depart in the morning.”

  “You can’t be serious?” gasped Lord Kiamesh.

  “There is no reason for the vows at this point, Lord Chenowith,” smiled Lord Marak. “A provocation has occurred. Your vows are no longer needed to move your troops. The law is with us even if the Emperor is not.”

  “You may count on my armies as well, Lord Marak,” declared Lord Quilo. “You not only won the heart of Emperor Bagora, but my son as well. I respect Katzu more than I respect myself. You have just shown your true intent by rejecting vows from Lord Chenowith. I was merely waiting for some sign that your ambitions were truly for the good of Khadora and not yourself. You have provided that proof as Katzu knew you would.”

  “Lord Kiamesh?” Lord Patel prompted with a grin on his face.

  “You know me well enough, Patel,” smiled Lord Kiamesh. “As long as I do not have to offer vows to Lord Marak, there is little for me to think about. My armies will march for the good of Khadora. I, too, will offer up thirty cortes. I will endeavor to get them ready as soon as possible. Our combined armies will be as the heart of Khadora. We shall pump strength into those areas that need it.”

  “We will still be badly outnumbered,” smiled Lord Chenowith, “but no longer are the Jiadin guaranteed victory. Let us show the rest of the country what the future of Khadora looks like. We shall be a nation where clans can work together to help one another.”

  Chapter 29

  Lord Jamarat

  “Yargot,” complained the marshal, “have you no say in what Aakuta does? These Jiadin are savages. They trample our fields and abuse our women. They devour the food so quickly that we will run out of it before long. The Kamaril clan will be penniless within a fortnight.”

  “Aakuta is lord of the Kamaril clan,” declared Yargot. “Without him, we would no longer be a clan. Never forget that he saved my life. How can I complain when his men eat our food?”

  “He saved your life, but he was well paid for it,” argued the marshal. “Letting him ruin the estate is not serving your people well.”

  “I gave my word to him,” Yargot said adamantly. “Would you serve a lord whose word means nothing?”

  “No,” conceded the marshal, “but surely you can talk to Aakuta and make him see what these filthy Jiadin are doing?”

  “You should be careful of your criticisms of the Jiadin,” warned Yargot. “They do not appear to need much provocation to strike out at us.”

  The Kamaril marshal nodded dutifully and sighed in exasperation. He turned and walked out of the room. Yargot also sighed and shook his head. While he had to justify Aakuta’s actions to his people, he also had great concerns for the welfare of the Kamaril people. He summoned up his courage and walked to the meeting room which Aakuta had taken over as his own.

  “More complaints?” Aakuta asked without turning to face the door. “Why do you Khadorans whine so much? Do you begrudge the Fakarans the pleasantries you have taken for granted for so long?”

  “Must they try to make up for their lack of it all in one day?” quipped Yargot. “An estate is the culmination of generations of hard work. Your Jiadin can tear it down in a fortnight. Can you not talk of moderation with them?”

  “You are bold for one so young,” chuckled Aakuta. “While I am capable of controlling the Jiadin, I choose to allow them the simple luxuries of life before they die, which will be soon. Continue to appease your people, young Yargot.”

  * * *

  “There are great armies heading eastward, Mirakotto,” reported Lord Garic. “The Walkan, Scratti, and Organila armies clog every major road. I think they are heading out to aid Lord Oktar.”

  “You will address me as Emperor,” snarled Mirakotto. “Have you no respect for my position?”

  “I am sorry,” bowed Lord Garic. “You are indeed the Emperor of Khadora.”

  “And don’t forget it,” snapped Mirakotto. “It is not Lord Oktar that they seek to assist. It is Lord Marak. Something must be done about him.”

  “I thought you had that taken care of?” questioned Lord Garic.

  “Andretti was a fool,” spat Emperor Mirakotto. “We need someone who is close to the Torak lord. He must be caught off guard.”

  “Just the mention of assassinating him to the wrong person will cause trouble,” frowned Lord Garic. “We dare not approach a member of the Torak clan. Who else could have close enough access to him to strike a fatal blow?”

  “That is what you must find out, Lord Garic,” ordered the Emperor. “Find someone to deal with Lord Marak, and find him quickly.”

  * * *

  Lord Oktar joined Lord Marak on the tall hill overlooking the Balomar estate.

  “There are so many of them,” frowned Lord Oktar. “We can never hope to hold them off. Marshal Berman said they began arriving a couple of days ago.”

  “They must have had orders before the Assembly of Lords,” sighed Lord Marak. “It is as I suspected. You can see the Vessi coming in from the north and the Lejune from the south. There is little doubt to their intentions. They plan to annihilate everyone on the Balomar estate. It is time to move your people away from here.”

  “How?” asked Lord Oktar. “And where will they go?”

  “There are wagons arriving everyday with food from my estates,” Lord Marak pointed out. “Start filling those wagons with people for the return trip. The wagons will become more numerous now that we have convinced several other clans to send armies here. They must be fed as well.”

  “I am still amazed that you managed to convince them to send troops,” Lord Oktar said. “When will they arrive?”

  “Soon, I hope,” replied Lord Marak. “Great armies cannot move with the speed of a single squad. They should start arriving in a few days.”

  “Will a few days be soon enough?” questioned the Balomar lord. “The Jiadin must be close to ready for their attack.”

  “Army to the west,” announced Botal. “This may be trouble. It is not one that we are expecting.”

  Lord Marak turned around and squinted into the setting sun. The distance was great, but he was able to make out the colors of their banner.

  “Neju,” frowned Lord Marak. “What are they doing out here?”

  “Lord Woton was a close ally of Mirakotto’s,” interjected Gunta. “We should alert our troops to be ready for mischief.”

  “Lord Jamarat is easily swayed,” nodded Lord Marak, “but I did not think he would allow Mirakotto to use him again. I wonder why Latril has not given me some advance word of this movement?”

  “Perhaps she was not able to,” frowned Botal. “Shall I ride out to meet them?”

  “We all shall,” decided Lord Marak. “If he has come to aid the Jiadin, we are in grave trouble. I would prefer to talk him out of it before his troops are committed.”

  “He could attack you instead,” warned Lord Oktar. “I think you going to meet him is not wise.”

  “Lord Jamarat is simple-minded,” declared Lord Marak, “but I do not think his heart is black. He will not act dishonorably.”

  Lord Marak gave the signal to head back to the mansion and onto the road to Khadoratung. Botal led the squad down the hill. His hand signals when he reached the bottom of the hill alerted the Torak troops there to potential danger. The word spread quickly as soldiers of each clan prepared for battle.

  An hour later, the Torak squad halted in the middle of the road to Khadoratung. The vanguard of the Neju army halted. Lord Marak rode slowly forward towards the Neju. Halman and Gunta followed as visib
le shadows. Suddenly, the ranks of the Neju parted. Lord Jamarat, sitting proudly atop his warhorse started forward. Latril rode right behind him. The soldiers sat in silence as the two lords approached one another.

  “Greetings Lord Jamarat,” welcomed Lord Marak. “What brings you to the eastern frontier?”

  “You do, Lord Marak,” answered the Neju lord. “I understand that Latril has sworn Vows of Service to you. I wish those bonds to be broken.”

  Lord Marak frowned as he tried to gaze at Latril, but she was blocked from his vision by the hulk of Lord Jamarat. Lord Marak raised his eyes and gazed into the face of Lord Jamarat.

  “Her bonds to me are for her protection,” he declared. “Does she wish these bonds to be broken?”

  “She does,” nodded Lord Jamarat.

  “Then I shall absolve her of her vows on one condition, Lord Jamarat,” Lord Marak said. “You will vow to provide for her protection. Without your vow, I will not release her.”

  “You are a wise man,” grinned Lord Jamarat. “Latril said you would do what you have done.”

  “May I ask why you desire the vows broken?” questioned Lord Marak. “And why have you felt that an army was required to ensure that they were broken?”

  “The vows were in the way of our betrothal,” grinned Lord Jamarat. “I cannot marry a woman who owes allegiance to another lord.”

  “No, that would not be practical,” grinned Lord Marak. “I am very happy for both of you. May Kaltara bless your union.”

  “I do not know this Kaltara,” frowned Lord Jamarat, “but your blessing will do. The army is not to force you into giving up Latril. It is our gift to you to help deal with the Jiadin. Treat them well and return them whole.”

  “I shall do my best,” responded Lord Marak, “but that is not something that I can promise. A good many of your men may die.”

  “I have brought twenty cortes with me,” frowned Lord Jamarat. “That is more than enough to even the odds against the Glamaraldi.”