Read Young Lord of Khadora Online

Authors: Richard S. Tuttle

Tags: #Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Young Adult

Young Lord of Khadora (4 page)

“As you command, Lord Marshal,” recited Marak.

Grefon returned to his conversation with the Lectains as Marak issued orders to his men. Security provisions were never this severe at previous meetings and Marak wondered if the Lord Marshal was expecting trouble. He smiled a bit as he realized that Rybak’s men would have to share in the duties, after all. He also wondered what orders were issued to Cortain Koors. The Lord Marshal expected Tagoro to be here instead of himself. By the time Marak finished issuing his orders, the Lord Marshal and his Lectains were gone from the porch. Marak led four of his men into the mansion which he had entered only once before and that was six years ago when Lord Marshal Grefon accepted his request to join the Army.

Marak marveled at the grandeur of the mansion as he led his men towards the meeting room. The floors were made of fine, polished marble and the high ceiling was painted in a grand scene of Lord Ridak strolling through a lituk orchard. Tall, marble columns supported the next floor and a wide, carpeted staircase wound its way to the second level after splitting into two separate staircases. In between the columns were pedestals with carved busts of men, only one of which Marak recognized as Lord Ridak. He assumed the others were the Lord’s Situ ancestors. On the far right wall of the massive entry foyer stood the large double doors to the Meeting Chamber. It was in this room that Grefon had accepted Marak’s petition. The two selected men immediately took up positions on either side of the doors and Marak led the remaining two men into the chamber.

The Meeting Chamber was completely done in dark wood. The floor consisted of smooth wooden panels and the ceiling sported large wooden beams that were carved in the same pattern as the large wooden columns that lined the walls. Between the columns, large tapestries, depicting battle scenes in which the yellow and green forces were conquering armies wearing different colors, hung on the wall. At the far end of the room was a massive marble fireplace and over it hung a portrait of Lord Ridak. The center of the room was filled with a huge wooden table whose dark wood was so finely polished that you could see your reflection well enough to shave. There were enough chairs around the table for Marak to seat his entire squad for dinner.

Marak posted the last two men beside the doors and returned to the entry foyer. Marak was halfway to the doors leading out to the front steps when an elderly woman with gray hair stepped in front of him.

“My, my,” she smiled as she looked up at him, “if it isn’t young Marak. Don’t you look decked out to impress the women?”

Marak looked down at the diminutive woman dressed in the traditional staff garb of a pale yellow tunic with the broad embroidered belt and an embroidered lituk tree inside a green circle on her left breast. His face broke into a wide grin as he recognized the Lord’s Minder. Flora had taken charge of Marak when he and his mother arrived at Lituk Valley. Marak was only six at the time and he was hysterical for days while his mother was dressed in slave browns and assigned to the slave shacks. Flora took it upon herself to soothe the small boy and she had been his only friend in those early days. Five or six years old was considered old enough to take the Vows of Service and everyone else treated him with scorn for acting so hysterical. Only Flora offered him comfort and Marak had not seen her in years.

“Flora!” exclaimed Marak. “You are as beautiful as ever.”

“So, you have the tongue to impress the ladies, as well,” blushed Flora. “You’ve turned into a mighty handsome man, young Marak, and a Squad Leader already. Oh, I’ve seen you occasionally through the windows, but to see you close up like this brings joy to my heart. Your mother must be proud.”

Marak’s face turned into a deep frown at the comment. “I would not know,” Marak replied bitterly. “I only see her from a distance. I would love to just talk with her and hold her hand.”

It was Flora’s turn to frown as she studied him. “I have never been one to contemplate disobedience,” Flora finally said, “but a young man should be able to visit with his mother, even if she is a slave. I suppose there are people who resent a slave’s boy being in the Army, but when you make Cortain you will be able to speak with her whenever you are off duty.”

“Should we both live that long,” remarked Marak. “I will speak with her soon. I must.”

“Marak,” cautioned Flora, “do not jeopardize your position for this. I am sure your mother is proud of you and it would kill her to know her son is also a slave. Bide your time, young warrior. Time changes many things, even people’s attitudes.”

Marak saw Lord Ridak and Lord Marshal Grefon heading for the front doors and nodded to Flora as he made his own way to the porch. Lord Ridak was a bull of a man, broad in the shoulders with thick arms and legs and a rusty brown mop of hair on his head. His floor length cape was similar to the Lord Marshal’s except for the length, half yellow and half green with a large embroidered lituk tree in a circle. Marak exited the mansion as two of his men held the doors open for the Lord and Lord Marshal.

The excitement on the porch was building as in the distance an approaching Lord and his escort could be seen. Lord Ridak strained to see which Lord had arrived first, but the distance was still too great. Marak’s men formed a corridor as stable hands, dressed in the green tunics that were standard Situ garb, gathered to take the arriving horses.

“Your cousin, Lord Wernik, and Marshal Cadam of Stony Brook,” announced Lord Marshal Grefon.

Lord Ridak smiled as the impressive column of soldiers wearing the green and yellow colors of the Situ Clan rode forward. Stony Brook was home to the mines and quarries of the Situ Clan and Lord Wernik was the oldest ruling Lord under Lord Ridak’s colors. Two squads of Stony Brook warriors rode on horses sporting blankets of green and yellow and showing the crest of the lituk tree. Holding their lances pointing skyward and gleaming in the morning light, the column of soldiers filled Lord Ridak with pride.

Lord Wernik showed gray hair under his headband and helmet, which was adorned with the green and yellow plumes. He grinned openly as he approached the front of the house. Marshal Cadam held a dark and foreboding glare as he glanced around at the placement of soldiers present. His black hair and goatee clashed with the gay yellow of his uniform. All Situ armies were dressed the same regardless of which estate they came from, except the Lord Marshal and Lord Ridak, who had gold trim signifying the head of the Situ Army and the head of the Situ Clan.

Lord Ridak and Lord Marshal Grefon greeted their counterparts and waited patiently as Squad Leader Marak introduced the assigned liaisons. As Lord Ridak led the visitors indoors, Marak led the Stony Brook soldiers to a waiting barracks and saw that they were settled in before returning to the porch. He arrived back just in time to repeat the procedure for Lord Zerik and Marshal Roak from Raven’s Point, the Situ estate located on the seacoast which specializes in seafood.

After an hour of idleness in which Marak talked with Squad Leaders from the other estates, Lord Caruko and Marshal Flutay from River’s Bend arrived. River’s Bend was downstream from Lituk Valley and supplied cloth and clothing from the herds of clova kept there. Any river shipments to the rest of the country also left from River’s Bend.

The aura of excitement subsided as the day wore on, until mid-afternoon when Lord Horkad and Marshal Simi arrived from Forest Deep, the estate which bred the Situ horses and wasooki. The contingent from Forest Deep included a wagon with six, large wasooki which Lord Horkad presented to Lord Ridak to feed the household while the meetings took place. Marak gazed at the strange, massive beasts and their long, red-haired coats. Unlike most estates, Forest Deep bred their wasooki for tenderness and taste, not for their ability to pull loads.

Lord Marshal Grefon kept Marak busy for the rest of the afternoon by continually requesting men to run errands or organize activities for the visiting soldiers. Just before sunset, Lord Lashendo and Marshal Garouk arrived with the contingent from Fardale, the estate furthest away, which produced grain and vegetables. Fardale was Lord Ridak’s newest estate and was his opening attempt at increasing his holdings into areas close to rival Lords. Unlike the four traditional Situ estates, Lord Ridak had claimed Fardale only four years earlier and most soldiers considered it the frontier.

Squad Leader Rybak’s men followed the Fardale contingent to the mansion and, after greetings were completed, dispersed to guard the perimeter of the mansion. Marak posted two of his men in the entry foyer and ordered the rest to get some sleep so they would be available to relieve the Meeting Chamber guards later. Marak followed Lord Marshal Grefon into the Meeting Chamber and stood behind his chair.

When Lord Ridak seated himself at the head of the table, the room fell quiet and the meeting officially began. The Lord of all Situ asked for the status of his holdings and, one by one, the Lords reported the condition of their estates. Most of the reports dealt with finances, markets, and population counts and Marak became engrossed with the dialog as he began to realize the full extent of Lord Ridak’s holdings. He already knew that the Situ were not a major clan in Khadora, but the impressive numbers presented at the meeting gave him an idea of how large the holdings were. The Estate Marshals reported on the strength of their armies and Marak was awestruck. He always believed that the real strength of the Situ was in Lituk Valley and that the remote estates had only token forces. The reality was much different. Each estate had its own army only slightly smaller than the one Lord Marshal Grefon commanded here.

The meeting broke for dinner and Lord Marshal Grefon pulled Marak aside. “Your men behaved admirably today, Squad Leader,” the Lord Marshal praised. “You will, of course, remind them that whatever is heard within these walls is not to be spoken of. Take this opportunity to check on your squad.”

Marak made the rounds of his men and reaffirmed the need for silence on the affairs of the Situ Clan. Marak and his men were fed separately by the household staff and Marak was waiting at the doors to the Meeting Chamber when the Lords and Marshals returned from their dinner. Everyone took their places and, once again, Lord Ridak convened the meeting.

It was during this second session that Marak got some idea of the need for the increased security. Lord Lashendo of Fardale was telling about his attempts to clear the Sitari Valley and the attacks of the Chula. His loss of men was considerable, but not devastating because of the size of his estate.

“The message was, My Lord,” Lord Lashendo stated, “that the next time we entered Sitari Valley, the Chula would not only kill all of our men, but would attack the estate, as well.”

“Marshal Garouk,” Lord Marshal Grefon interrupted, “have you made any further attempts to enter the valley?”

Marshal Garouk looked towards Lord Ridak before answering. “We have not, Lord Marshal,” he stated. “I think it is best if we beef up our estate defenses before we make another attempt. I have little doubt that the Chula will attempt to actually attack the estate and it will present the perfect opportunity to wipe them out, once and for all. After we lay the perfect trap at the Fardale estate we will send in a small expeditionary force to provoke them. Once the Chula are eliminated we can clear the Sitari Valley.”

“And you feel that you have sufficient forces to accomplish this task?” Lord Marshal Grefon questioned.

“Yes, Lord Marshal,” assured Marshal Garouk.

The Lord Marshal fixed Lord Ridak with a questioning gaze and the Situ Lord nodded. “We shall discuss your plans before the meeting days are over, Marshal Garouk,” Lord Ridak stated. “Lord Lashendo, please continue with your briefing.”

The reports from the far estates continued for several hours and the meeting was ended for the day. Marak made another check of his men and ordered the replacements to take their posts while those guarding the Meeting Chamber were given leave to sleep.

When Marak was returning to his barracks he saw his mother leaving her shack. Impulsively, he decided to intercept her and talk with her. Knowing the punishment for getting caught, Marak covertly slid behind the barracks and made his way towards the slave quarters.

Chapter 3
Glenda

Marak slipped cautiously around the last barrack building and gazed over the open ground leading towards the slave quarters. The slave shacks were surrounded by a fence and any slave leaving the compound could be killed on sight unless they were in the company of an overseer. Marak did not have to worry about being mistaken for a slave, but anyone who saw him would know that he was breaking the rules and would report him. Facilities were not provided in the slave shacks and Marak knew the reason for his mother’s journey. He also knew he would not have much time before she returned to her shack and getting to talk with her then would be impossible.

Quickly, Marak sprinted across the open area and crouched alongside the fence. Rybak’s squad was on the mansion perimeter duty and the open area he just crossed could be visible to them if they were alert. Without pursuing that nagging thought, Marak stood up and vaulted over the fence. As quickly as he could, Marak ran to the rear of the first slave shack. He shook his head and sighed as he realized what he should have known all along, there was no way that he was going to talk with his mother and not get caught.

Determined to do what should have been his right, Marak pressed on. He stealthily moved from shack to shack, cursing the color of his uniform each time he had to cross an open space. Swiftly, he gained the footpath into the small patch of trees that afforded a little privacy for the slaves. His mother was already returning towards the shack when she stopped short at the sight of a soldier.

“Marak!” she exclaimed softly. “You should not be here. Go, before you are caught.”

Marak walked to his mother and embraced her. “I will not go,” he stated simply.

He grabbed her hand and led her off the path to a clear area between two trees where they could sit. He gently lowered her to the ground and sat down beside her.

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