Young Lord of Khadora

by Richard S. Tuttle

  “I would prefer to keep the conversation limited to answers to my questions,” smiled Marak. “Lord Quavry was just about to make a decision on retirement as Lord of Sorgan. I know this matter will be of great interest to you, so please stand there and be quiet. Now, Lord Quavry, you were about to decide if you were properly captured by the enemy or not. Have you made your decision?”

  “What would it matter?” asked Lord Quavry. “You do not wear the green and yellow of the Situ and I am the only one you have captured. So you win the enslavement of an old man, so what? My son will assume leadership of the Sorgan Clan and Fardale will still be wiped out. If that makes you take your sword out of my throat, I will submit. Are you satisfied?”

  “Almost,” stated Marak. “I want to hear you offer your Vows of Service to Lord Marak and I want to hear it now.”

  “Impossible,” wheezed Lord Quavry. “The Vows are not binding unless they are given to the Lord in question. You will have to bring Lord Marak here to get your wish.”

  “I don’t have to do anything,” smiled Marak. “I want to hear you offer the Vows and I want to hear them now. You can complain later about their authenticity.”

  Lord Quavry did not miss the reference to complaining later. If this madman heard what he wanted, he really did mean to let Lord Quavry live and that was enough to offer hope to the Sorgan Lord. “Very well,” stated Lord Quavry.

  Marak watched the expression on the Sorgan Marshal’s face as his Lord recited the Vows of Service. The face was stony with a mask of indifference and its eyes were fixed on Marak’s every movement. Marak could feel the tension in the Marshal as he stood poised to leap at the stranger at any moment.

  When Lord Quavry had completed his Vows, Marak fixed his stare on the Marshal. “It is your turn, Marshal,” instructed Marak, “and I would like to know your name.”

  “I am Marshal Patoga of the Sorgan Clan,” uttered the officer, “and I will not offer Vows of Service to Lord Marak. I am already sworn to Lord Quavry and I do as he bids me to.”

  Marak nodded at the officer’s proper response. “Lord Quavry,” he ordered, “you will instruct your Marshal to utter the Vows to Lord Marak.”

  Lord Quavry could care less about the officer’s Vows. He had just been subjected to the humiliation of giving them. Why shouldn’t Marshal Patoga suffer, as well? Besides, the Vows were worthless, anyway. “Do it,” ordered Lord Quavry.

  Marshal Patoga shook his head as he uttered the Vows of Service to Lord Marak. When the Marshal had completed the Vows, he fixed Marak with a stare. “The Vows which I have just recited are worthless until they are given to Lord Marak personally,” he intoned. “Unless you plan on taking us to Fardale, we are no closer to a resolution of this situation than we were when I entered the room. You will never get Lord Quavry or myself out of the mansion and I am sure that Lord Marak will not offer to come here to receive our Vows. Why don’t you put the sword away and I will promise you a quick and painless death?”

  “That is very gracious of you, Marshal,” smiled Marak. “If I can arrange for these Vows to be given to Lord Marak directly, can you be counted on to honor them?”

  “The Vows of Service are sacred,” lectured Marshal Patoga. “There is not one man on the Sorgan estate who would dispute that. If Lord Quavry gives his Vows to Lord Marak in person, Watula Valley will follow Lord Marak. Now, seeing as you can not accomplish that miracle, your fun is over. I demand that you surrender immediately or I will sound the alarm.”

  “If you sound the alarm,” retorted Marak, “the three of us will die needlessly. You have given your word, Marshal Patoga, and I accept it. There is one thing you should be aware of before I remove my sword from Lord Quavry’s throat. I am Lord Marak of Fardale.”

  The Marshal’s jaw dropped and Lord Quavry screamed as he unintentionally cut himself further on Marak’s blade. Marak swiftly withdrew his sword from Lord Quavry’s throat, but he did not return it to its sheath as he heard running footsteps approaching the Lord’s suite. Two men burst into the room and Marshal Patoga quickly shouted for them to halt.

  “Kill him,” shouted Lord Quavry. “I demand that you kill him now.”

  The two men raised their swords, but Patoga shouted for them to stop. “Lord Quavry can not order you to kill this man,” the Marshal stated. “If you act on Lord Quavry’s delirious words, you will be making him break his Vows of Service which I, myself, heard him utter. Leave us. Wait in the outer room until we call for you.”

  Throughout the exchange Marak stood poised to act. His first swing would end the rule of the Sorgan Clan and the rest would take as many of the Sorgan soldiers as he was able to. Lord Quavry continued ranting and calling for Marak’s death as Marshal Patoga inserted himself between his men and Lord Marak. After he ushered his men into the sitting room, Marshal Patoga closed the door and leaned against it.

  “I am sorry, Lord Marak,” declared Marshal Patoga, “but I must require proof of your identity before I can allow you to leave this room. If you are not Lord Marak, you will not leave this room alive.”

  Lord Quavry was hysterical and had scooted off the bed and was cringing in the corner next to his slave mistress. Marak shook his head in disgust as he turned to face Marshal Patoga.

  “Of course, Marshal,” agreed Marak. “I am sure that you have had people spying on Fardale for the Army. Bring one of them to this room.”

  “Mogry would know,” cried Lord Quavry. “Send for my son.”

  Marak looked at the Marshal and shook his head. “Mogry was killed yesterday morning by your other spy, Tachora. I’m afraid you will need to rely on one of the Army spies.”

  Marshal Patoga opened the door and gave instructions to one of his men. He closed the door and returned his gaze to Lord Marak. “Why would Tachora kill Mogry?” he asked.

  “I announced my decision not to retaliate with an attack on Watula Valley and he grew desperate,” replied Marak. “I also informed him that I knew about his dealings with Lord Quavry. He stated that the death of Mogry would force me to act because it was provocation enough for Lord Quavry to order an attack.”

  “I always thought the man a fool,” nodded Marshal Patoga. “I trust Tachora is dead, as well?”

  “Certainly not,” smiled Marak. “He is alive to present testimony about Lord Quavry’s dealings. I understand that mediators from the Lords Council will be here soon.”

  A knock on the door interrupted the discussion and the Marshal opened it to allow a soldier in. The soldier stood there with an open mouth and eyes as large as eggs as he stared at Lord Marak. “Lord Marak?” he exclaimed. “Here in Watula Valley?”

  Patoga shook his head as he shoved the soldier back out the door with orders to remain in the next room. “My men will have much to learn from you, Lord Marak,” Patoga smiled. “If I may, I would suggest that you allow me to assemble my men for the issuance of their Vows to you. I would also like to get a doctor for Lord Quavry.”

  “Don’t you need Lord Quavry’s order to assemble the men?” questioned Lord Marak.

  Marshal Patoga shook his head as he gazed at the blubbering hulk in the corner. “I have given you my Vows and I have witnessed Lord Quavry do the same,” he clarified. “I also witnessed Lord Quavry break those very Vows by ordering your death. All Sorgans already owe their allegiance to you because by capturing Lord Quavry, you have captured the Sorgan Clan. You are within your rights to strike him dead and the Sorgan will follow you. If he objects to my men taking the Vows, I suggest that you do exactly that. The man is without honor.”

  Lord Marak nodded as the Marshal left the room. Marak stepped over and extended his hand to the young slave girl, helping her to get up off the floor. “I think you will look much prettier in a different color tunic,” smiled Marak. “Why don’t you go get cleaned up and find a quiet place to recover from this unfortunate incident?”

  The woman pushed her errand curls back as she smiled up at Lord Marak. “Is it true that you have freed the sla
ves in Fardale?” she asked.

  Lord Marak bestowed a fatherly smile on the young girl and nodded. “As they will be freed here in Watula Valley, as well,” he added. “No one will force you to do what is not right anymore. Go, get cleaned up.”

  The young girl smiled and bowed as she left and the doctor came in before the door closed. He barely spared Marak a glance as he hurried to Lord Quavry’s side. Marak opened the door and left the doctor to his work. In the sitting room was an assemblage of plumed officers and Marshal Patoga was in the center of them giving instructions. The officers immediately stiffened and saluted their new Lord. Marak allowed the Marshal to orchestrate the ceremony and all of the high level officers recited their Vows of Service to Lord Marak.

  Marak insisted that the Marshal keep a written log of each swearing and while the Marshal thought the order was superfluous, he complied. Each Cortain left immediately after swearing his Vows to assemble his own men. As the soldiers of the Sorgan Army were swearing their Vows to Lord Marak, the new Lord of Watula Valley was scribbling a note of his own. He gave the note to Marshal Patoga and ordered that it be delivered by a single man into the hands of Lectain Zorkil in Fardale. The note explained that Marak was safe and that there would be no war with the Sorgans. He further instructed that Fardale return to normal duties and instructed Cortain Tagoro to return to Watula Valley with the messenger.

  After the Sorgan Army had been processed, Marshal Patoga arranged for the rest of the Sorgan Clan to recite their Vows. The last to be processed were the slaves and Lord Marak of Watula Valley declared each a free man after he recited his Vows of Service. The very last presented to Lord Marak was the slave called Yenga.

  “I thought you were dead,” stated Lord Marak. “Why is it that you are a slave and not the Marshal of the Sorgan Clan?”

  “I broke my Vows of Service to Lord Quavry,” admitted Yenga. “I refused a direct order.”

  “How, then, can I trust you will not do the same for the Vows you have just sworn to me?” posed Marak.

  “I will do no different, My Lord,” conceded Yenga. “If you utter the same order as Lord Quavry did, my answer will be the same.”

  “What was this order that was so grievous that you were willing to forfeit your freedom?” asked Lord Marak.

  “Lord Quavry ordered me to command my men to attack your innocents as they worked a barren field, Lord Marak,” Yenga replied stiffly. “I have been a soldier all of my life and I have never disobeyed an order, but I was not trained to kill innocents. A soldier fights other soldiers, not women and children.”

  “Then you should be a soldier again,” smiled Lord Marak. “You are a free man and I would be pleased to have you in my Army. I have long heard tales of your strategic brilliance even in Lituk Valley. You have a reputation for outmaneuvering, outthinking and outguessing much larger forces than your own. I would be honored to have you serve as my Lord Marshal.”

  “Stories of Squad Leader Marak have reached my ears, as well,” complimented Yenga. “You show leadership qualities and personal skills which rival the best soldiers in the land, but you have declared me a free man and that is how I wish to remain. I should think you have been in the Army long enough to realize that you can not have a Lord Marshal. You may have an opening for a Marshal in Fardale, but a Lord Marshal is the head of a Clan Army. That position in the Situ Clan is already held by Lord Marshal Grefon and even if it was open, the authority to fill it resides with Lord Ridak, not you.”

  “You are correct in your analysis,” smiled Lord Marak. “Still, that does not explain your refusal to serve in the Army. You have devoted your life to soldiering and you are the best. You can not expect me to believe that you are going to become a farmer. Why do you refuse to serve in my Army? Do you disapprove of my reforms or is it me, personally, that you wish to avoid serving?”

  “Quite the contrary,” grinned Yenga. “Your moves here in Watula Valley will be the food of songsters for generations to come and the reforms you have started in Fardale will shock the entire nation. No, I heartily welcome your reforms and they almost tempt me to join with you, but I have tasted life as a slave. It was not a long period of enslavement, but I have felt the despair that is part and parcel of a slave’s life. I will never return to that station in life and serving in the Army is an open trench waiting for my body.”

  “You fear death?” Marak asked unbelievingly.

  “Not death,” corrected Yenga, “slavery. If I serve again, I will once again refuse an order and I do not wish to be returned to slavery. As a free man, I will never be forced into making such a refusal.”

  “But I would never ask such a thing of you,” protested Lord Marak. “I like to think that I am a man of reason. If you find an order so objectionable that you would offer your freedom to refuse it, do you not think that I will listen to your arguments?”

  “I do not think you would ever suggest an order which I would refuse,” declared Yenga, “but there are others above you who would. Lord Ridak is no different than Lord Quavry and I can not serve him as part of the Army.”

  “You underestimate me,” clarified Lord Marak. “I can guarantee you that, as my Marshal, you will never be subject to orders from Lord Ridak or Lord Marshal Grefon. You will owe no allegiance to them. I have been given absolute control over Fardale. You would take orders from no one but myself.”

  “Is this true of all the people at Fardale and Watula Valley?” questioned Yenga.

  “Every last one,” grinned Lord Marak. “Lord Ridak can only attempt to control me, not my people. Will you serve as my Marshal?”

  “With pleasure,” beamed Yenga. “In fact, you may find that I have some suggestions for taking your reforms further. You may regret this day, Lord Marak. My reforms will certainly incense Lituk Valley.”

  “Let them scream,” chuckled Lord Marak as he reached out and clasped Yenga’s forearms. “Let them scream so loud that the whole nation sits up and takes notice.”

  A soldier ran forward and interrupted the discussion. “Lord Marak,” he panted, “scouts report that the emissary from the Lords Council is only hours away. He will be here before nightfall.”

  Chapter 14

  Burdine

  The messenger’s report regarding the impending arrival of the mediator from the Lords Council broke up the conversation between Lord Marak and Yenga, the new Marshal of Fardale. “Yenga, get dressed in your old uniform,” ordered Lord Marak. “I have a mission for you.”

  Marak left a confused Yenga standing in the courtyard and strode off to find Marshal Patoga. He found the Marshal of Watula Valley organizing a festival to honor their new Lord.

  “Marshal Patoga,” addressed Lord Marak, “I need to talk with you.”

  Patoga quickly snapped off a series of orders to his men and joined Lord Marak in an area free of listeners. “Yes, Lord Marak, how may I serve you?” greeted Marshal Patoga.

  “I have taken the liberty of making Yenga the Marshal of Fardale,” began Lord Marak. “I have ordered him to don his old uniform for now and I wish you to assign him a Squad of Watula Valley soldiers. I know this is unusual, but it is necessary. I do want to confirm my intention to retain you as Marshal of Watula Valley.”

  “Lord Marak,” Marshal Patoga replied, “I have served under Marshal Yenga for many years. While I feel that I am qualified for the position of Marshal of Watula Valley and am grateful for the chance to prove my abilities, I would have no objection to serving under Marshal Yenga again. He is truly my superior in all respects and it is an honor to serve under his command.”

  Marak nodded as he smiled. “You have already proven that you have the abilities of a good Marshal, Patoga, and I have need of a Marshal in Fardale. In a sense, you will get both of your wishes. As Marshal of Watula Valley, you will treat Marshal Yenga of Fardale as a Lord Marshal.”

  “But the Situ already have a Lord Marshal,” objected Patoga, “Lord Marshal Grefon.”

  “Watula Valley does not belong to th
e Situ Clan,” grinned Marak. “It belongs to me. The Sorgan Clan shall continue as a separate entity, but its people owe their allegiance to me.”

  Marshal Patoga’s face creased with confusion. “A Clan without a Lord?” he queried. “A Clan who owes their allegiance to a Situ Lord, but who are not Situ? I do not understand.”

  “Maybe I should clarify my intentions,” agreed Lord Marak. “I am the Lord of the Situ estate of Fardale. The people of Fardale owe allegiance directly to me and not to Lord Ridak of Lituk Valley. This arrangement, although not common, is legal and acceptable. According to the pronouncement given to me by Lord Ridak, my people are only subject to Lord Ridak’s orders through me. If his orders are not carried out, he has no legal complaint against my people. It is my intention to allow the Sorgan Clan to remain intact with a Lord to rule them, however, they will owe allegiance to me and only to me. If the Lord of Watula Valley does not obey me, I will replace him with another or order you to have him replaced.”

  “But if Lord Ridak rules you and you rule the Lord of Watula Valley,” postulated Marshal Patoga, “then are not the people of Watula Valley subject to Lord Ridak of the Situ?”

  “No,” declared Lord Marak. “If I chose to defy Lord Ridak, the people of my Clans will defy him alongside me.”

  Realization of Lord Marak’s intentions finally dawned on Marshal Patoga and he smiled broadly. Lord Marak might be subject to the legal control of Lord Ridak, but the head of the Situ Clan would tread carefully if Marak had considerable support and strength among his own people. Lord Marak might use that strength to argue with Lord Ridak and get his orders changed to something more acceptable.

  “Yes, Lord Marak,” grinned Patoga, “I do understand now, but who will be the Lord of the Sorgan Clan?”

  “I am not sure,” sighed Marak. “I plan on talking with Lord Quavry to see if he can agree to my demands and my methods of running an estate. If that does not work out, I would value your input on the matter. I would prefer to keep a Sorgan at the head of the Sorgan Clan, but whomever it is, you will ensure that there is no attempt to subvert my authority.”