“Magic is nonsense,” scowled Lord Quilo. “You cannot shape the future of a country on ancient prophecies and magic.”
“Can’t you?” retorted Lord Marak. “The magic that you call nonsense blasted a hole in the prison where I was kept. I have spoken to Fakarans who described the mage that ruled over Grulak. The man was not human as you and I define the term. He was a magical being. When he died, his body ceased to exist. There was nothing left but his clothes. How would your armies battle that, Lord Quilo?”
“If it is true,” shrugged Lord Quilo. “Are you so quick to accept the word of a Fakaran?”
“I have seen similar beings myself,” answered Lord Marak. “I know there is doubt in your minds, but I am not trying to push my views upon you on this matter. I ask only that you keep an open mind. I will find a way to prove my words to you in the future.”
“But you are trying to press your ideas in dealing with the Jiadin,” responded Lord Chenowith. “I understand you came before the Lords’ Council yesterday in an appeal for troops to aid the Balomar.”
“Quite true,” nodded Lord Marak. “Troops are desperately needed out there. I had a brief talk just moments ago with the four lords of the eastern frontier who have Jiadin warriors. I am sure that they will combine their forces now. That is twenty thousand Jiadin that will be attacking Lord Oktar. Emperor Mirakotto has forbidden the council to come to my aid even though there is provocation.”
“You have troops out there now?” asked Lord Chenowith.
“I do,” conceded Lord Marak.
“What other clans have troops out there?” pushed Lord Chenowith. “And do not try to avoid the question, Lord Marak.”
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.”