Lord Marak’s eyes scanned the massive room. Hundreds of rich red leather chairs were set in rows facing a wide stage. Each chair had a small desk before it, and a small table beside it.
“Very well,” nodded Lord Marak, “but you should have your people change the name on the Sorgan chair as well. Lord Quavry is dead. The Sorgan clan is now led by Lord Shamino.”
“Oh?” questioned the Imperial soldier as Lord Marak eased out of the chamber and rejoined the group. “I had not heard. I will notify the proper authorities after I escort you to your quarters.”
The escort led the group away from the Assembly Chamber and turned down a wide corridor. Lord Marak saw doors on both sides of the corridor, and each door had a gold plaque with the clan name engraved upon it. The doors close to the foyer were spread very far apart, but as they progressed along the hallway, he noticed less space between doors. The quarters were getting smaller as they progressed along the corridor.
When the end of the long corridor was in sight, the escort stopped and opened a door with no name on the plaque. He stood aside and let the Toraks enter the suite. The door entered into a large communal room with a fireplace for cooking. There were doors off to each side of the room, and the escort squeezed by the Torak troops and stepped alongside Lord Marak.
“On the left is a barracks room,” informed the escort. “There are enough bunks in there for a squad plus a few extras. On the right is the lord’s suite. It has a small study and a bedroom. You can use the fireplace for cooking, but the palace has several kitchens available. Meals are served three times a day. There is a kitchen below us for your troops. There is one on this floor for lords and their immediate family or staff. No soldiers are allowed in it. The other kitchens are for the Lords’ Council and the Emperor. You are not permitted into those unless you are invited.”
“Thank you for the information,” nodded Lord Marak. “I may have more questions later. What is your name, soldier?”
“I am called Chard,” replied the escort. “I have welcoming duty today, but I will be part of the security detail after everyone arrives. I will be available if you have questions, but any soldier of the Imperial force will help guide you. The Imperial soldiers do not take part in any clan disputes, Lord Marak. We are separate from all clans and serve the Emperor. Your reception was not meant to belittle you. We were merely uninformed that you would be attending the Assembly of Lords.”
“Somebody must have made a mistake,” shrugged Lord Marak. “The Torak clan was recognized by the Lords’ Council a long time ago.”
“Indeed it was,” agreed Chard, “and we are trained to recognize clans by their colors, but we have never seen the black and silver before. I am not sure why your quarters and assembly chair have not been marked.”
“Just unfortunate, I guess,” smiled Lord Marak.
“Yes,” nodded Chard. “You can be assured that all of the Imperial troops will be informed before this day is out. There will be no more embarrassing moments caused by Imperial troops.”
“Thank you, Chard,” Lord Marak said. “You have been most helpful. Are we free to roam the palace?”
“Pretty much,” answered Chard. “If there are areas where you are not permitted, you will be notified. You must stress upon your people that weapons of any kind are not allowed out of this suite. If one of your men is armed, Imperial troops will try to detain the offender, but they are authorized to kill if need be. This directive includes the lords as well. In this regard, lords are no different than their soldiers.”
“What if I want to send a messenger out of the palace?” asked Lord Marak.
“He either leaves the palace unarmed,” replied Chard, “or you arrange an Imperial escort for him. Contact any Imperial soldier and say that you need an escort. Your request will be acted on immediately.”
“Very well,” nodded Lord Marak.
Chard started to leave and halted abruptly. “There are only three keys to this suite,” he advised. “Two of them hang on the back of the door here. The Imperial staff keeps the third. Do not lose your keys or there will a problem with housing your men until the lock is refitted.”
Lord Marak nodded and Chard left the suite. Lord Marak strode immediately to the lord’s suite. Latril followed him closely. The study was small but adequate. They passed through the study to the bedroom. One large bed occupied one wall, and a long dresser took up most of the opposite wall.
“No windows,” frowned Latril. “How are we to communicate with Fardale?”
“We will think of something,” mused Lord Marak. “You will sleep in here, Latril. I will bunk with the soldiers. Let me get rid of my weapons and we will take a stroll around the palace.”
Lord Marak removed his sheath and placed it on the desk in the study. He felt his broad waist belt and frowned at the touch of the Sakovan stars secreted in it. Although he felt naked without the stars, he removed them from their hidden place and placed them on the desk. Next, he removed two knives from his arm sheaths, and two more from his boots. He sighed as he stepped back into the communal room.
“Do not disgrace us by being caught with weapons,” Lord Marak warned his soldiers. “Make sure that even your hidden weapons remain here. Halman, Gunta, come with me. Latril and I are going for a walk to see if we can find a good place for an air tunnel. Botal, I want this palace mapped. Send the men out in groups of two. Do not make it obvious what you are doing. No paper or notes until you return here. Pay special attention to areas that are restricted, and look for any open air areas like balconies.”
“What about guarding the suite?” asked Botal.
“You take one of the keys, and I will take the other,” replied Lord Marak. “You organize your men and arrange for them to get back in. I will handle my party. I doubt anyone is going to break in to steal our clothes and weapons.”
Botal nodded as he handed one of the keys to Lord Marak. Halman opened the door and Gunta glided through it before Lord Marak and Latril. Lord Marak checked the corridor in both directions before turning towards the rear of the palace.
* * *
StarWind, HawkShadow, and Mistake stood at the edge of the market place in Khadoratung. Thousands of people shuffled by, making rounds of the stalls in search of bargains.
“Where do you want to begin?” asked HawkShadow.
StarWind gazed at the multitude of people moving around and shook her head. “I say we start with the inns,” she replied. “Each side of the market appears to host a row of inns. You can take one side, and I will take the other.”
“These are just the inns in the market area,” complained HawkShadow. “I saw more inns along the riverfront. Khadoratung is a much larger city than even Okata. We could spend days just visiting each inn briefly. How do you expect to find General Didyk in all this mess?”
“A foreign general should be something memorable to almost anyone,” shrugged StarWind.
“True,” countered HawkShadow, “but anyone asking about him will also be memorable. That is not a healthy approach.”
“You are right,” StarWind nodded thoughtfully. “Let’s just visit the inns briefly on the chance that he is dining in one of them. Keep your ears open. Khadoratung will not be so different from Okata that people will not love to gossip. If he has been here recently, somebody will be talking about him.”
“All right,” shrugged HawkShadow. “I will meet you back here as the sun sets.”
“I will keep my ears open, too,” offered Mistake as HawkShadow and StarWind departed.
The small Fakaran grinned as she turned her attention to the market stalls. Her eyes widened as she proceeded along one of the rows and gazed at the merchandise for sale. Mistake had never been to a large city, and the market in Khadoratung appeared to be a treasure trove to her. She moved by the stalls slowly, her eyes scanned each stall as she admired the variety of goods available.