“The time has come for your people to earn their keep, Gregnic,” stated Aakuta as he pointed to a large map he had placed on the table. “We are going here,” he said as he pointed to a spot on the map. “This will be our new home for a while.”
“In Khadora?” questioned Gregnic. “The men will not like that.”
“They will not be forced to go,” smiled Aakuta. “Make a list of each who refuses to live up to their agreement. I will kill them tonight. Perhaps we can make a sport of it for the amusement of the others.”
“Kill them?” gulped Gregnic. “They will go. I just meant that they would not be happy about it.”
“I care little for their happiness,” scowled the dark mage. “They made a bargain. I intend to see them live up to it. I want you to organize their trip to my new estate. They will travel only at night. Nobody is to see them. Is that clear?”
“Nobody is to see them,” nodded Gregnic. “We can do that.”
“Good,” smiled Aakuta. “Today and tomorrow they may rest. Tomorrow night they begin their travels. I want that list to be accurate, Gregnic. Any man who refuses to serve, as agreed to, will suffer greatly. Make sure that the men learn of my words.”
* * *
Lord Chenowith of the Walkan clan sat in the Emperor’s office.
“You are asking me to commit troops to battle, Father,” Lord Chenowith frowned, “but I have no alliance with Lord Oktar or Lord Marak. Frankly, your request confuses me. A border dispute on the eastern frontier is no business of the Walkan clan. Even if it were, I would not commit troops until a provocation had occurred. That is the way in Khadora, and you know it.”
“I am fully aware of the law, son,” replied Emperor Bagora, “but I also know right from wrong. The clans of the frontier are as much a part of Khadora as any other, even a founding clan. Are we not a government of all of the clans?”
“We are,” sighed Lord Chenowith. “I have never known you to stray from the law in the past. It is your hallmark. Why have you changed your views on this?”
“I am privy to information that I cannot repeat,” explained the Emperor. “What I can tell you is that Khadora is in serious trouble. Why do you think Lord Marak is out there to defend a small clan? Do you think he likes to stick his nose in other people’s business just because he is curious? He understands the gravity of the situation, as do I. I can only ask that you put your trust in me. Your armies are very much needed.”
“You speak of this Lord Marak as if he is some sort of Khadoran savior,” sighed Lord Chenowith. “All that I have heard about him is that he is too young to rule.”
“Bah,” scowled the Emperor. “Wash those thoughts out of your mind. Those are the words of men with no vision. Lord Marak may well be a savior to Khadora. If any man in this country deserves to sit in this chair that I occupy, it is him. Never forget that. His age has nothing to do with his abilities.”
“I have never heard you speak so strongly in favor of anyone,” frowned Lord Chenowith. “Not even me.”
Emperor Bagora sighed heavily and looked at his son. He shook his head sadly. “You know that I think the world of you, Chenowith,” the Emperor said fondly. “You are a far better man than I ever was at your age. Your people adore you, and with good reason. You are kind, yet firm. Your honesty is beyond reproach, and you are an extremely generous lord. I do not mean to hurt your feelings with this talk of Lord Marak. You are well qualified to be Emperor of Khadora, but you are not aware of what is going on in this world. There is only one man who is aware. That is Lord Marak.”
“I thought you knew what he knows,” frowned Lord Chenowith.
“I know but a fraction of what he knows,” confessed the Emperor. “He stands today with a minor frontier lord to battle the Glamaraldi, but there is a greater threat than even them. I have learned a great deal from Lord Marak, but there is much more to learn. My spies have uncovered more information that Lord Marak only hinted at.”
“Why is this Lord Marak so secretive?” asked Lord Chenowith. “He should be eager to share information with the Emperor, particularly one who is so taken with him.”
“He has shared enough with me that his life would be forfeit if I told anyone what I know,” replied the Emperor. “He has a great reason for his secrecy. He knows things that would bring shame to all Khadorans. You well know how some of your fellow lords would react to such information.”
“He cannot possibly know anything that would bring shame to me,” Lord Chenowith said adamantly. “I am proud of the life I live.”
“Would you be so proud if you found out that this grand life you live is founded on the misery of others?” accused the Emperor.
Lord Chenowith stared at the Emperor for a long time. He knew his father as the most respected man in all of Khadora, yet Chenowith could see the agony of guilt in the Emperor’s eyes. It was not a personal guilt, Chenowith realized after a few moments. It was a collective guilt. Lord Chenowith searched his mind for anything in the histories of Khadora that could possibly cause such pain, but he found nothing.
“How can you ask this of me, Father?” Lord Chenowith finally asked. “You have taught me to live according to our laws. Now you ask me to break them.”
“No,” the Emperor shook his head. “I cannot ask you to break them, although I would like to. I do not request that you send your armies into battle in defense of the Balomar clan. I ask that you send your armies to be ready for battle. Lord Marak is expecting the Glamaraldi to provoke a crisis by attacking the Balomar. The problem as I see it, is that once that provocation takes place, our armies will be too far away to help.”
“So you want me to send armies all the way to the eastern frontier, to wait for a potential battle?” questioned Lord Chenowith. “What are they to live on? How long shall they wait? You must be specific in what you are asking me to do.”
“I cannot be more specific,” sighed the Emperor. “Perhaps I am wrong to even ask such a sacrifice from you.”
“Don’t do that to me, Father,” scowled Lord Chenowith. “Now you are making me feel guilty for not obeying your request without question. That is not fair.”
“I am sorry,” apologized Emperor Bagora. “That was not my intention. I am frustrated by my inability to do what I know is right. The fault does not lie with you.”
Lord Chenowith nodded with understanding. “If our situations were reversed, Father,” asked the lord of the Walkan clan, “What would you do?”
“If I knew what I know,” shrugged the Emperor, “I would march my armies onto the Balomar estate and ask Lord Marak where they should take up positions.”
“You feel that strongly about this?” Lord Chenowith asked as his eyebrow rose.
“I do,” nodded the Emperor, “but I am wrong to ask you to do the same. It was a mistake to make such a request and then refuse to tell you my reasons.”
“You have that much faith in this Lord Marak?” inquired Lord Chenowith. “Faith enough to violate the law?”
“I would not violate the law,” the Emperor shook his head. “It would not be necessary.”
“Not necessary?” frowned Lord Chenowith. “Maybe you did not understand me. I was talking about you committing Walkan troops to fight a war before any provocation has been registered with the Lords’ Council.”
“I understand the question,” assured the Emperor.
“How could you do that without breaking the law?” questioned Lord Chenowith. “It is not possible.”
“It is possible,” sighed the Emperor. “I would swear Vows of Service to Lord Marak.”
Lord Chenowith’s mouth fell open as he stared at the Emperor of Khadora. He shook his head as if to clear his ears, but he knew he had not misheard his father. For several long minutes, the silence remained unbroken. Father and son sat and stared at each other across the large desk. Finally, the son stood up and bowed to the Emperor.
“You have given me much to dwell upon,” Lord Chenowith said formally. “I am afraid that I must think upon your request for some time before I can properly answer you.”